p^ 


SUSAN  EDMONSTQNE  FERRIER. 


MARRIAGE. 

Vol.  I. 


i 


4 


mm  EDMONSTONE  FERRIER'8 
-  flouels  - 

MARRIAGE 2  vols. 

THE    INHERITANCE   .    •    2   vols. 
DESTINY 2   vols. 


With  a  Frontispiece  Illustration  to  each 
volume  by  Frank  T.  Merrill.  Bound  in 
half  ruby  morocco,  gilt  top.  Price,  ^125 
per  volume.     The  set  in  a  neat  box,  price 


ROBERTS    BROTHERS,    Publishers. 


D~^^      ^^  ~^      Q^~^^      Q^      ^^~^^~S^      ^^      ^ 


t'^irfeSifc^CI 


f^crricr   ^Jujan  Ed/^o?is>fajie^ 


Aiy 


Copyrifjht,  1SD3, 
By  Kobeuts  BKOXHEits. 


Santbtrsitg  iSrcss: 
John  Wilson  and  Son,  Cambridge,  U.S.A. 


PREFATORY  NOTE. 

Miss  Ferriek's  Novels  have,  since  their  first 
appearance,  suffered  curtailment  in  all  subsequent 
Editions.  The  present  Edition  is  the  first  reprint 
from  the  original  Editions,  and  contains  the  whole 
of  the  omissions  in  other  reprints.  It  is,  therefore, 
the  only  perfect  Edition  of  these  Novels. 

Works  which  have  received  the  praise  of  Sir 
Walter  Scott  and  Sir  James  Mackintosh,  and  been 
thought  worthy  of  discussion  in  the  Nodes  Amhro- 
siance,  require  no  further  introduction  to  the  reader. 
The  almost  exceptional  position  which  they  occupy 
as  satirizing  the  foibles  rather  than  the  more 
serious  faults  of  human  nature,  and  the  caustic 
character  of  that  satire,  mingled  with  such  bright 
wit  and  genial  humour,  give  Miss  Ferrier  a  place 
to  herself  in  English  fiction ;  and  it  is  felt  that  a 


VI  PREFATORY  XOTE. 

time  has  come  to  recognize  this  by  producing  her 
works  in  a  form  which  fits  them  for  the  library, 
and  in  a  type  which  enables  them  to  be  read  witli 
enjoyment. 


MISS  FERRIER'S  NOVELS.' 


In  November  1854  there  died  in  Edinburgh  one  who 
might,  with  truth,  be  called  almost  the  last,  if  not  the 
last,  of  that  literary  galaxy  that  adorned  Edinburgh 
society  in  the  daj's  of  Scott,  Jeffrey,  Wilson,  and 
others.  Distinguished  by  the  friendship  and  confid- 
ence of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  the  name  of  Susan  Edmon- 
stone  Terrier  is  one  that  has  become  famous  from  her 
three  clever,  satirical,  and  most  amusing  novels  of 
Marriage,  The  Inheritance,  and  Defitiny.  They  exhibit, 
besides,  a  keen  sense  of  the  ludicrous  almost  un- 
equalled. She  may  be  said  to  have  done  for  Scotland 
what  Jane  Austen  and  Maria  Edgeworth  have  respect- 
ively done  for  England  and  Ireland — left  portraits, 
painted  in  und;ying  colours,  of  men  and  women  that 
will  live  for  ever  in  the  hearts  and  minds  of  her 
readers.  In  the  present  redundant  age  of  novel- 
writers  and  novel-readers,  and  when  one  would  sup- 
pose the  supply  must  far  exceed  the  demand  from 
the  amount  of  puerile  and  often  at  the  same  time 
prurient  literature  in  the  department  of  fiction  that 

^  Reprinted  from  the  Temple  Bar  Magazine  lor  XoveiiiLer  1878. 
VOL.  I.  B  M 


2  MISS  FERRIER  S  NOVELS. 

daily  flows  from  the  press,  it  is  refreshing  to  turn  to 
the  vigorous  and,  above  all,  healthy  moral  tone  of 
this  lady's  works.  To  the  present  generation  they 
are  as  if  they  had  never  been,  and  to  the  question, 
"Did  you  ever  read  Marriage?"  it  is  not  uncommon 
in  these  times  to  get  such  an  answer  as,  "  No,  never. 
Who  wrote  it?"  "Miss  Terrier. "  "  I  never  heard  of 
her  or  her  novels."  It  is  with  the  view,  therefore, 
of  enlightening  such  benighted  ones  that  I  pen  the 
following  pages. 

Miss  Ferrier  was  the  fourth  and  youngest  daughter 
of  James  Ferrier,  Writer  to  the  Signet,  and  was  born 
at  Edinburgh,  7th  of  September  1782.  Her  father 
was  bred  to  that  profession  in  the  office  of  a  distant 
relative,  Mr.  Archibald  Campbell  of  Succoth  (great- 
grandfather of  the  present  Archbishop  of  Canterbury). 
To  his  valuable  and  extensive  business,  which  included 
the  management  of  all  the  Argyll  estates,  he  ultimately 
succeeded.  He  was  admitted  as  a  member  of  the 
Society  of  Writers  to  the  Signet  in  the  year  1770. 
He  was  also  appointed  a  Principal  Clerk  of  Session 
through  the  influence  (most  strenuously  exerted)  of 
his  friend  and  patron,  John,  fifth  Duke  of  Argyll,^ 
and  was  a  colleague  in  that  office  with  Scott.     He 

^  To  this  nobleman,  in  his  later  years,  Mr.  Ferrier  devoted 
much  of  his  time,  both  at  Inveraray  and  Roseneath.  He  died 
in  1806.  His  Duchess  was  the  lovely  Elizabeth  Gunning.  Mr. 
Ferrier  died  at  25  George  Street,  Edinburgh,  January  1829, 
aged  eighty-six.  Sir  Walter  Scott  attended  his  funeral.  After 
his  death  Miss  Ferrier  removed  to  a  smaller  house,  in  Nelscn 
Streist. 


MISS  FERPJERS  NOVELS.  3 

also  numbered  among  his  friends  Henry  Mackenzie, 
the  "Man  of  Feeling,"  Dr.  Hugh  Blair,  and  last, 
though  not  least.  Burns  the  poet.  His  father,  John 
Ferrier,  had  been  in  the  same  office  till  his  marriage 
with  Grizzel,  only  daughter  and  heiress  of  Sir  Walter 
Sandilands  Hamilton,  Bart.,  of  Westport,  county 
Linlithgow.^  John  Ferrier  was  the  last  Laird  of 
Kirklands,  county  Renfrew,  subsequently  sold  to  Lord 
Blantyre.  Mr.  James  Ferrier  was  the  third  son  of 
his  parents,  and  was  born  1744.^  Miss  Ferrier  was 
in  the  habit  of  frequently  visiting  at  Inveraray  Castle 
in  company  with  her  father,  and  while  there  had 
ample  opportunity  afforded  her  of  studying  fashion- 
able life  in  all  its  varied  and  capricious  moods,  and 
which  have  been  preserved  to  posterity  in  her  admir- 
able delineations  of  character.  Her  reason  for  becom- 
ing an  authoress  is  from  her  own  pen,  as  follows,  and 
is  entitled  a  preface  to  The  Inheritance : — 

^  Sir  Walter's  father,  Walter  Sandilands  of  Hilderston,  a 
cadet  of  the  Torphichen  famil}''  (his  father  was  commonly  styled 
Tutor  of  Calder),  assumed  the  name  of  Hamilton  on  his  mar- 
riage with  the  heiress  of  Westport. 

^  His  brothers  were  :  William,  who  assumed  the  name  of 
Hamilton  on  succeeding  his  grandfather  in  the  Westport  estate. 
He  was  in  the  navy,  and  at  the  capture  of  Quebec,  wliere 
he  assisted  the  sailors  to  drag  the  cannon  up  the  heights  of 
Abraham  ;  m.  Miss  Johnstone  of  Straiton,  co.  Linlithgow  ;  died 
1814.  Walter;  m.  Miss  Wallace  of  Cairnhill,  co.  Ayr,  father 
of  the  late  Colonel  Ferrier  Hamilton  of  Cairnhill  and  Westport. 
Hay,  major-general  in  the  army  ;  m.  first  Miss  JLicqueen,  niece 
of  Lord  Braxfield,  second,  Mrs.  Cutlar  of  Orroland,  co.  Kirk- 
cudbright. He  was  Governor  of  Dumbarton  Castle,  and  died 
there  1824. 


4  MISS  FERRIER  S  NOVELS. 

"  An  introduction  had  been  requested  for  the  first  of 
these  three  works,  Marriage;  but  while  the  author  was 
considering  what  could  be  said  for  an  already  thrice-told 
tale,  it  had  passed  through  the  press  with  such  rapidity 
as  to  out'^trip  all  consideration.  Indeed,  what  can  be  said 
for  any  of  them  amounts  to  so  little,  it  is  scarcely  worth 
saying  at  all.  The  first  was  begun  at  the  urgent  desire 
of  a  friend,  and  with  the  promise  of  assistance,  which,  how- 
ever, failed  long  before  the  end  of  the  first  volume  ;  the 
work  was  then  thrown  aside,  and  resumed  some  years 
after.^  It  afforded  occupation  and  amusement  for  idle 
and  solitary  hours,  and  was  published  in  the  belief  that 
the  author's  name  never  would  be  guessed  at,  or  the  work 
heard  of  beyond  a  very  limited  sphere.  '  Ce  n'est  que  le 
premier  pas  qu'il  coute'  in  novel-writing,  as  in  carrying 
one's  head  in  their  hand  ;  The  Inheritance  and  Destiny 
followed  as  matters  of  course.  It  has  been  so  often  and 
confidently  asserted  that  almost  all  the  characters  are 
individual  portraits,  that  the  author  has  little  hope  of 
being  believed  when  she  asserts  the  contrary.  That  some 
of  them  were  sketched  from  life  is  not  denied  ;  but  the 
circumstances  in  which  they  are  placed,  their  birth,  habits, 
language,  and  a  thousand  minute  particulars,  diff'er  so 
widely  from  the  originals  as  ought  to  refute  the  charge  of 
personality.  With  regard  to  the  introduction  of  religious 
sentiment  into  works  of  fiction,  there  exists  a  difi'erence 
of  opinion,  which,  in  the  absence  of  any  authoritative 
command,  leaves  each  free  to  act  according  to  their  own 
feelings  and  opinions.  Viewing  this  life  merely  as  the 
prelude  to  another  state  of  existence,  it  does  seem  strange 
that  the  future  should  ever  be  wholly  excluded  from 
any  representation  of  it,  even  in  its  motley  occurrences, 
scarcely  less  motley,  perhaps,  than  the  human  mind  itself. 
The  author  can  only  wish  it  had  been  her  province  to 
have  raised  plants  of  nobler  growth  in  the  wide  field  of 

^  It  underwent  several  changes  before  its  tinal  imblicatiou  in 
1818. 


MISS  FERRIER  S  NOVELS.  5 

Christian  literature  ;  but  as  such  has  not  been  her  high 
calling,  she  hojies  her  '  small  herbs  of  grace '  may,  -with- 
out offence,  be  allowed  to  put  forth  their  blossoms  amongst 
the  briars,  weeds,  and  wild  flowers  of  life's  common  path. 
"Edinburgh,  Ajjril  1840." 

The  friend  on  whose  assistance  she  relied  was  Miss 
Clavering,  daughter  of  Lady  Augusta  Clavering,  and 
niece  of  the  late  Duke  of  Argjdl.  Between  this  lady 
and  our  author  an  early  friendship  existed,  which 
was  severed  only  by  death.  It  commenced  in  1797, 
when  ]VIiss  Ferrier  lost  her  mother,^  and  when  she 

^  Mrs.  Ferrier  (-iiee  Coutts)  was  the  daughter  of  a  farmer  at 
Gom-don,  near  Montrose.  She  was  very  amiable,  and  possessed 
of  great  personal  beauty,  as  is  attested  by  her  portrait  by  Sir 
George  Chalmers,  Bart.,  in  a  fancy  dress,  and  painted  1765.  At 
the  time  of  her  marriage  (1767)  she  resided  at  the  Abbey  of 
Holyrood  Palace  with  an  aunt,  the  Honourable  Mrs.  Maitland, 
widow  of  a  younger  son  of  Lord  Lauderdale's,  who  had  been 
left  in  poor  circumstances,  and  had  charge  of  the  apartments 
there  belonging  to  the  Argyll  family.  After  their  marriage 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ferrier  occupied  a  flat  in  Lady  Stairs  Close  (Old 
Town  of  Edinburgh),  and  which  had  just  been  vacated  by  Sir 
James  Pulteney  and  his  wife  Lady  Bath.  Ten  children  were 
the  fruit  of  this  union  (six  sons  and  four  daughters),  viz. — 

1.  John,  W.S.,  of  12  York  Place,  Edinburgh,  d.  1851  ;  m. 
Miss  Wilson,  sister  of  Professor  Wilson,  and  lather  of  the  lata 
Professor  Ferrier  of  St.  Andrews,  N.  B. 

2.  Archibald  Campbell,  AV.S.,  d.  1814 ;  m.  Miss  Garden. 

3.  Lorn,  d.  1801,  at  Demerara. 

4.  James,  d.  in  Lidia,  1804.  )    r>  .i     a. 

..    -..r.,,.       TT      .,  ■, .    .     ,    ,.       \    Both  omcers. 

5.  William  Hamilton,  d.  1804,  in  India.    ) 

6.  Walter,  W.S.,  d.  1856  ;  m.  Miss  Gordon. 

7.  Jane  (Mrs.  Graham),  d.  1846. 

8.  Janet  (Mrs.  Connell),  d.  1848. 

9.  Helen  (Mrs.  Kinloch),  d.  1SG6,  at  Torquay,  aged  90. 
10.  Susan  Edmoiistone. 


6  MISS  feerier's  novels. 

went  with  her  father  to  Inveraray  Castle  she  was  then 
fifteen,  and  her  friend  only  eight.  Miss  Clavering 
became  the  wife  of  Mr.  Miles  Fletcher,  advocate,  but 
was  better  known  in  later  years  as  Mrs.  Christison. 
She  inherited  all  the  natural  elegance  and  beauty  of 
face  and  form  for  which  her  mother,  and  aunt  Lady 
Charlotte  Campbell,  were  so  distinguished,  and  died 
at  Edinburgh,  1869,  at  an  advanced  age.  While  con- 
cocting the  story  of  her  first  novel.  Miss  Ferrier 
writes  to  her  friend  in  a  lively  and  sprightly  vein  : — 

"  Your  proposals  flatter  and  delight  me,  but  how  in 
the  name  of  Postage  are  we  to  transport  our  brains  to 
and  fro  ?  I  suppose  we'd  be  pawning  our  flannel  petti- 
coats to  bring  about  our  heroine's  marriage,  and  lying  on 
straw  to  give  her  Christian  burial.  Part  of  your  plot  I 
like  much,  some  not  quite  so  well — for  example,  it  wants 
a  moral — your  principal  characters  are  good  and  interest- 
ing, and  they  ai'e  tormented  and  persecuted  and  punished 
from  no  fault  of  their  own,  and  for  no  possible  purpose. 
Now  I  don't  think,  like  all  penny-book  manufacturers, 
that  'tis  absolutely  necessary  that  the  good  boys  and  girls 
should  be  rewarded  and  the  naughty  ones  punished.  Yet 
I  think,  where  there  is  much  tribulation,  'tis  fitter  it 
should  be  the  consequence  rather  than  the  cause  of  miscon- 
duct or  frailty.  You'll  say  that  rule  is  absurd,  inasmuch 
as  it  is  not  observed  in  human  life  :  that  I  allow,  but  we 
know  the  inflictions  of  Providence  are  for  wise  purposes, 
therefore  our  reason  willingly  submits  to  them.  But  as 
the  only  good  purpose  of  a  book  is  to  inculcate  morality 
and  convey  some  lesson  of  instruction  as  well  as  delight, 
I  do  not  see  that  what  is  called  a  good  moral  can  be  dis- 
pensed with  in  a  work  of  fiction.  Another  fault  is  your 
making  your  hero  attempt  suicide,  which  is  greatly  too 
shocking,  and   destroys  all   the   interest   his  misfortunes 


MISS  FERRIER  S  NOVELS.  7 

would  otherwise  excite — that,  however,  could  be  easily 
altered,  and  in  other  respects  I  think  your  plot  has  great 
merit.  You'll  perhaps  be  displeased  at  the  freedom  of 
my  remarks  ;  but  in  the  first  place  freedom  is  absolutely 
necessary  in  the  cause  in  which  we  are  about  to  embark, 
and  it  must  be  understood  to  be  one  if  not  the  chief  article 
of  our  creed.  In  the  second  (though  it  should  have  been 
the  first),  know  that  I  always  say  what  I  think,  or  say 
nothing.  Now  as  to  my  own  deeds — I  shall  make  no 
apologies  (since  they  must  be  banished  from  our  code  of 
laws)  for  sending  you  a  hasty  and  imperfect  sketch  of 
what  I  think  might  be  wrought  up  to  a  tolerable  form. 
I  do  not  recollect  ever  to  have  seen  the  sudden  transition 
of  a  high-bred  English  beauty,^  who  thinks  she  can  sacri- 
fice all  for  love,  to  an  uncomfortable  solitary  Highland 
dwelling^  among  tall  red-haired  sisters  and  grim- faced 
aunts.  Don't  you  think  this  would  make  a  good  opening 
of  the  piece  ?  Suppose  each  of  us  try  our  hands  on  it  ; 
the  moral  to  be  deduced  from  that  is  to  warn  all  young 
ladies  against  runaway  matches,  and  the  character  and 
fate  of  the  two  sisters  would  be  unexceptionable.  I  expect 
it  will  be  the  first  book  every  wise  matron  will  put  into 
the  hand  of  her  daughter,  and  even  the  reviewers  will 
relax  of  their  severity  in  favour  of  the  morality  of  this 
little  work.  Enchanting  sight !  already  do  I  behold  my- 
self arrayed  in  an  old  mouldy  covering,  thumbed  .ind 
creased  and  filled  with  dogs'-ears.  I  hear  the  enchanting 
sound  of  some  sentimental  miss,  the  shrill  pipe  of  some, 
antiquated  spinster,  or  the  hoarse  grumbling  of  some 
incensed  dowager  as  they  severally  inquire  for  me  at  the 
circulating  library,  and  are  assured  by  the  master  that 
'tis  in  such  demand  that  though  he  has  thirteen  copies 

^  Lady  Juliana. 

^  Gleufern.  Dunderawe  Castle,  on  Loch  Fyne,  was  in  Miss 
Terrier's  mind  when  she  drew  this  sketch  of  a  "solitary  High- 
laud  dwelling." 


8  MISS  fereiee's  novels. 

they  are  insufficient  to  answer  the  calls  upon  it,  but  that 
each  of  them  may  depend  upon  having  the  very  first  that 
comes  in  !  !  !  Child,  child,  you  had  need  be  sensible  of 
the  value  of  my  correspondence.  At  this  moment  I'm 
squandering  mines  of  weallh  upon  you  when  I  might  be 
drawing  treasures  from  the  bags  of  time  !  But  I  shall 
not  repine  if  you'll  only  repay  me  in  kind — speedy  and 
long  is  all  that  I  require  ;  for  all  things  else  I  shall  take 
my  chance.  Though  I  have  been  so  impertinent  to  your 
book,  I  nevertheless  hope  and  expect  you'll  send  it  to  me, 
Combie^  and  his  daughter  (or  Mare,  as  you  call  her)  are 
coming  to  town  abovit  this  time,  as  I'm  informed,  and  you 
may  easily  contrive  to  catch  them  (wild  as  they  are)  and 
send  it  by  them,  for  there's  no  judging  what  a  picture 
will  be  like  from  a  mere  pen-and-ink  outline — if  that 
won't  do,  is  there  not  a  coach  or  a  carrier?  One  thing 
let  me  entreat  of  you  :  if  we  engage  in  this  undertaking, 
let  it  be  kept  a  profound  secret  from  every  human  being. 
If  I  was  suspected  of  being  accessory  to  such  foul  deeds, 
my  brothers  and  sisters  would  murder  me,  and  my  father 
bury  me  alive  —  and  I  have  always  observed  that  if  a 
secret  ever  goes  beyond  those  immediately  concerned  in  its 
concealment  it  very  soon  ceases  to  be  a  secret." 

Again  she  writes  to  her  friend  and  copartner  in 
her  literary  work : — 

"  I  am  boiling  to  hear  from  you,  but  I've  taken  a 
remorse  of  conscience  about  Lady  Maclaughlan  and  her 
friends :  if  I  was  ever  to  be  detected,  or  even  suspected,  I 
would  have  nothing  for  it  but  to  drown  myself.  I  mean, 
therefore,  to  let  her  alone  till  I  hear  from  j^ou,  as  I  think 
we  might  compound  some  other  kind  of  character  for  her 
that  might  do  as  well  and  not  be  so  dangerous.  As  to 
the  misses,  if  ever  it  was  to  be  published  they  must  be 
altered  or  I  must  fly  my  native  land." 

'■  Campbell  of  Coiubiu. 


MISS  FERRIERS  NOVELS.  9 

Miss  Clavering  writes  in  answer  : — 

"  Ardencaple  Castle,  Sunday  Morning. 

"  First  of  all  I  must  tell  you  that  I  approve  in  the 
most  signal  manner  of  Lady  Maclauglilan.  The  sort  of 
character  was  totally  unexpected  by  me,  and  1  was  really 
transported  with  lier.  Do  I  know  the  person  who  is  the 
original  ?  The  dress  was  vastly  like  Mrs.  Damer,^  and 
the  manners  like  Lady  Frederick.  ^  Tell  me  if  you  did 
not  mean  a  touch  at  her.  I  love  poor  Sir  Sampson 
vastly,  though  it  is  impossible,  in  the  presence  of  his  lady, 
to  have  eyes  or  ears  for  any  one  else.  Now  you  must  not 
think  of  altering  her,  and  it  must  all  go  forth  in  the 
world ;  neither  must  the  misses  upon  any  account  be 
changed.  I  have  a  way  now  of  at  least  offering  it  to 
publication  by  which  you  never  can  be  discovered.  I 
will  tell  the  person  that  I  wTote  it  (indeed,  quotha,  cries 
Miss  Ferrier,  and  no  great  favour  ;  see  how  she  loves  to 
plume  herself  with  borrowed  fame  !).  Well,  however, 
my  way  is  quite  sure,  and  the  person  would  never  think 
of  speaking  of  it  again,  so  never  let  the  idea  of  detection 
come  across  your  brain  while  you  are  writing  to  damp 
your  ardour. 

"  Positively  neither  Sir  Sampson's  lady  nor  the  foolish 
virgins  must  be  displaced." 

Again  she  writes  from  Inveraray  Castle  (of  date 
December  1810),  eight  years  before  the  work  was 
published : — 

^  Daughter  of  General  Seymour  Conway,  and  a  distingiiished 
sculptor.     She  was  niece  of  tlie  fifth  Duke  of  Argyll. 

2  Lady  Frederick  Campbell  is  believed  to  have  suggested  tlie 
character  of  Lady  Maclaughlau  to  Miss  Ferrier,  and  there  is 
little  doubt  she  was  the  original.  She  was  tlie  widow  of  Earl 
Ferrers,  of  Tyburn  notoriety,  and  was  burnt  to  death  at  Coombe 
Bank,  Kent,  in  1807. 


10  MISS  fereier's  novels. 

"  And  now,  my  dear  Susannah,  I  must  tell  you  of  the 
success  of  your  first-born.  I  read  it  to  Lady  Charlotte  ^ 
in  the  carriage  when  she  and  I  came  together  from  Arden- 
caple,  Bessie  ^  having  gone  with  mamma.  If  you  will 
believe,  I  never  yet  in  my  existence  saw  Lady  C  laugh 
so  much  as  she  did  at  that  from  beginning  to  end  ;  and, 
seriously,  I  was  two  or  three  times  afraid  that  she  would 
fall  into  a  fit.  Her  very  words  were,  '  I  assure  you  I 
think  it  without  the  least  exception  the  cleverest  thing 
that  ever  was  written,  and  in  wit  far  surpassing  Fielding.' 
Then  she  said  as  to  our  other  books  they  would  all  sink 
to  nothingness  before  yours,  that  they  were  not  fit  to  be 
mentioned  in  the  same  day,  and  that  she  felt  quite  dis- 
couraged from  writing  when  she  thought  of  yours.  The 
whole  conversation  of  the  aunties  ^  made  her  screech  with 
laughing  ;  and,  in  short,  I  can  neither  record  nor  describe 
all  that  she  said  ;  far  from  exaggerating  it,  I  don't  say 
half  enough,  but  I  only  wish  you  had  seen  the  effect  it 
produced.  I  am  sure  you  will  be  the  first  author  of  the 
age." 

In  another  letter  she  writes  : — 

"  I  had  an  immense  packet  from  Lady  C.  the  other 
day,  which  I  confess  rather  disappointed  me,  for  I  expected 
volumes  of  new  compositions.  On  opening  it,  what  shouhi 
it  prove  but  your  book  returned  ?  so  I  shall  keep  it  safe 
till  I  see  you.  She  was  profuse  in  its  praises,  and  so  was 
mamma,  who  said  she  was  particularly  taken  with  Lady 

^  Lady  Charlotte  Campbell,  her  aunt,  better  kno\vn  latterly 
as  Lady  Charlotte  Bury,  and  celebrated  for  her  beauty  and 
accomplishments. 

-  Miss  Mure  of  Caldwell. 

3  These  oddities  were  the  three  Misses  Edmonstone,  of  the 
Duntreath  family,  and  old  family  friends,  after  one  of  whom 
Miss  Ferrier  was  named. 


MISS  fereier's  novels.  11 

Juliana's  brother,^  he  was  so  like  the  duke.  Lady  C.  said 
she  had  read  it  all  deliberately  and  critically,  and  pro- 
nounced it  capital^  with  a  dash  under  it.  Lady  C.  begs 
that  in  your  enumeration  of  Lady  Olivia's  peccadilloes 
you  will  omit  waltzes." 

That  dance  had  just  been  introduced  in  London 
(1811),  and  the  season  of  that  year  Miss  Clavering 
spent  with  her  aunt,  Lady  Charlotte,  in  the  metro- 
polis, in  a  round  of  gaiety,  going  to  parties  at  Ken- 
sington Palace  (where  the  Princess  of  Wales-  then 
lived),  Devonshire  House,  and  the  witty  Duchess  of 
Gordon's,  one  of  the  "  Empresses  of  Fashion,"  as 
Walpole  calls  her.  Apropos  of  waltzes,  she  writes  to 
Miss  Ferrier : — 

"  They  are  all  of  a  sudden  become  so  much  the  rage 
here  that  people  meet  in  the  morning  at  one  another's 
houses  to  learn  them.  And  they  are  getting  on  very 
much.  Lady  Charlotte  and  I  get  great  honour  for  the 
accomplishment,  and  I  have  improved  a  few  scholars. 
Clanronald  ^  is  grown  so  detestably  fine.  He  waltzes 
with  me  because  he  thinks  he  thereby  shows  off  his 
figure,  but  as  to  speaking  to  me  or  Lady  Charlotte  he 
thinks  himself  much  above  that.  He  is  in  much  request 
at  present  because  of  his  dancing  ;  next  to  him  Lord 
Hartington  is,  I  think,  the  best  dancer  ;  he  is,  besides, 
very  fond  of  it,  and  is  much  above  being  fine  ;  I  never 
met  with  a  more  natural,  boyish  creature." 

To  return  to  the  novel     The  only  portion  from 

^  Lord  Courtland. 

^  Lady  Charlotte  was  one  of  the  Princess's  ladies-in-waiting. 
^  Macdonald  of  Clanronald,  a  great  beau  in  the  fashionable 
London  world. 


12  MISS  ferrier's  novels. 

Miss  Clavering's  pen  is  the  history  of  Mrs.  Douglas 
in  the  first  vokime,  and  are,  as  she  herself  remarked, 
"the  only  few  pages  that  will  be  skipped."  She 
further  adds : — 

"  Make  haste  and  print  it  then,  lest  one  of  the  Miss 
Edmonstones  should  die,  as  then  I  should  think  you 
would  scarce  venture  for  fear  of  being  haunted. 

"  I  shall  hasten  to  burn  your  last  letter,  as  you  men- 
tion something  of  looking  out  for  a  father  for  your  bant- 
ling, so  I  don't  think  it  would  be  decent  to  let  anybody 
get  a  sight  of  such  a  letter  ! " 

At  last,  in  1818,  the  novel  was  published  by  the 
late  Mr.  Blackwood,  and  drew  forth  loud  plaudits 
from  the  wondering  public,  as  to  who  the  author  of 
BO  original  a  book  could  be.  "In  London  it  is  much 
admired,  and  generally  attributed  to  Walter  Scott," 
so  writes  a  friend  to  Miss  Ferrier ;  and  she  replies  in 
her  humorous  style :  "  Whosever  it  is,  I  have  met 
with  nothing  that  has  interested  me  since."  Sir 
Walter  must  have  been  flattered  at  his  being  supposed 
its  father,  for  he  says,  in  the  conclusion  of  the  Tales 
of  my  Landlord : — 

"  There  remains  behind  not  only  a  large  harvest,  but 
labourers  capable  of  gathering  it  in  ;  more  than  one  writer 
has  of  late  displayed  talents  of  this  description,  and  if  the 
present  author,  himself  a  phantom,  may  be  permitted  to 
distinguish  a  brother,  or  perhaps  a  sister,  shadow,  he  would 
mention  in  particular  the  author  of  the  very  lively  work 
entitled  Marriage." 

Mr.  Blackwood,  whose  opinion  is  of  some  value, 


MISS  fekrier's  novels.  13 

thought  very  highly  of  Marriage,  and  he  writes  to  Miss 
Terrier  (1817)  :— 

"  Mr.  B.  will  not  allow  himself  to  think  for  one  moment 
that  there  can  be  any  uncertainty  as  to  the  work  being 
completed.  Not  to  mention  his  own  deep  disappointment, 
Mr.  B.  would  almost  consider  it  a  crime  if  a  work  possess- 
ing so  much  interest  and  useful  instruction  were  not  given 
to  the  world.  The  author  is  the  only  critic  of  whom 
Mr.  B.  is  afraid,  and  after  what  he  has  said,  he  anxiously 
hopes  that  this  censor  of  the  press  will  very  speedily  affix 
the  imprimatur." 

In  allusion  to  Sir  Walter's  eulogium  on  the  novel 
above  quoted,  Mr.  Blackwood  wTites  to  the  author : — 

"  I  have  the  pleasure  of  enclosing  you  this  concluding 
sentence  of  the  new  Tales  of  my  Landlord,  which  are  to 
be  published  to-morrow.  After  this  call,  surely  you  will 
be  no  longer  silent.  If  the  great  magician  does  not  con- 
jure you  I  shall  give  up  all  hopes." 

But  Miss  Ferrier  seems  to  have  been  proof  against 
the  great  magician  even.  Marriage  became  deservedly 
popular,  and  was  translated  into  French,  as  appears 
from  the  annexed: — 

"  We  perceive  by  the  French  papers  that  a  translation 
of  Miss  Ferrier's  clever  novel  Marriage  lias  been  very  suc- 
cessful in  France." — New  Times,  6  Oct.  '25. 

For  Marriage  she  received  the  sum  of  £150.  Her 
second  venture  was  more  successful  in  a  pecuniary 
sense.  Space,  however,  prohibits  me  from  dwelling 
any  longer  on  Marriage,  so  we  come  next  to  The 
Inheritance.     This  novel  appeared  six  years  after,  in 


14  Mibs  terrier's  novels. 

1824,  and  is  a  work  of  very  great  merit.    To  her  sister 
(Mrs.  Kinloch,  in  London)  Miss  Ferrier  writes : — 

"  John  (her  brother)  has  now  completed  a  bargain  with 
Mr.  Blackwood,  by  which  I  am  to  have  £1000  for  a  novel 
now  in  hand,  but  which  is  not  nearly  finished,  and  pos- 
sibly never  may  be.  Nevertheless  he  is  desirous  of 
announcing  it  in  his  magazine,  and  therefore  I  wish  to 
prepare  you  for  the  shock.  I  can  say  nothing  more  tiian 
I  have  already  said  on  the  subject  of  silence,  if  not  of 
secrecy.  I  never  will  avow  myself,  and  nothing  can  hurt 
and  offend  me  so  much  as  any  of  my  friends  doing  it  for 
me  ;  this  is  not  fagon  de  "parler,  but  my  real  and  unalter- 
able feeling  ;  I  could  not  bear  the  fuss  of  authorism  ! " 

Secrecy  as  to  her  authorship  seems  to  have  been 
the  great  desire  of  her  heart,  and  much  of  The  Inherit- 
ance was  written  in  privacy  at  Morningside  House, 
old  Mr.  Terrier's  summer  retreat  near  Edinburgh,  and 
she  says,  "This  house  is  so  small,  it  is  very  ill-calculated 
for  concealment." 

It  was  not  till  1851  that  she  publicly  avowed  her- 
self by  authorising  her  name  to  be  prefixed  to  a 
revised  and  corrected  edition  of  her  works.  ^  Sir 
Walter  Scott  was  delighted  with  this  second  novel, 
a  proof  of  which  was  conveyed  to  Miss  Ferrier  by 
Mr.  Blackwood : — 

"  On  Wednesday  I  dined  in  company  with  Sir  Walter 
Scott,  and  he  spoke  of  the  work  in  the  very  highest  terms. 
I  do  not  always  set  the  highest  value  on  the  baronet's 


^  Published  by  the  late  Mr.  Richard  Bentley,  to  whom  she 
sold  her  copyrights  in  1841.  A  previous  edition  was  published 
by  him  in  1841. 


MISS  fereier's  novels.  15 

favourable  opinion  of  a  book,  because  he  has  so  much 
kindness  of  feeling  towards  every  one,  but  in  this  case  he 
spoke  so  much  con  amore,  and  entered  so  completely,  and  at 
such  a  length,  to  me,  into  the  spirit  of  the  book  and  of  the 
characters,  that  showed  me  at  once  the  impression  it  had 
made  on  him.  Every  one  I  have  seen  who  has  seen  the 
book  gives  the  some  praise  of  it.  Two  or  three  days  ago 
I  had  a  note  from  a  friend,  which  I  copy  :  '  I  have  nearly- 
finished  a  volume  of  The  Inheritance.  It  is  unquestionably 
the  best  novel  of  the  class  of  the  present  day,  in  so  far  as 
I  can  yet  judge.  Lord  Eossville,  Adam  Ramsay,  Bell 
Black  and  the  Major,  Miss  Pratt  and  Anthony  Whyte,  are 
capital,  and  a  fine  contrast  to  each  other.  It  is,  I  think, 
a  more  elaborate  work  than  Marriage,  better  told,  with 
greater  variety,  and  displaying  improved  powers.  I  con- 
gratulate you,  and  have  no  doubt  the  book  will  make  a 
prodigious  sough.'" ^ 

Mr.  Blackwood  adds:  "I  do  not  know  a  better 
judge  nor  a  more  frank  and  honest  one  than  the  writer 
of  this  note." 

Again  he  writes  : — 

"  On  Saturday  I  lent  in  confidence  to  a  very  clever 
friend,  on  whose  discretion  I  can  rely,  the  two  volumes 
of  The  Inheritance.  This  morning  I  got  them  back 
with  the  following  note:  'My  dear  Sir — I  am  truly 
delighted  with  The  Inheritance.  I  do  not  find  as  yet  any 
one  character  quite  equal  to  Dr.  Eedgill,^  except,  perhaps, 
the  good-natured,  old-tumbled  (or  troubled,  I  can't  make 
out  which)  maiden,^  but  as  a  novel  it  is  a  hundred  miles 

^  Sensation. 

'  In  Marriage  the  gourmet  physician  to  Lord  Courtland,  and 
"the  living  portrait  of  hundreds,  though  never  before  hit  off 
80  well." 

^  Hiss  Becky  Duguid. 


16  MISS  ferrier's  novels. 

above  Marriage.  It  reminds  me  of  Miss  Austen's  very 
best  things  in  every  page.  And  if  the  third  volume  be 
like  these,  no  fear  of  success  triumphant.'" 

Mr.  Blackwood  again  says : — 

"  You  have  only  to  go  on  as  you  are  going  to  sustain 
the  character  Sir  Walter  gave  me  of  Marriage,  that  you 
had  the  rare  talent  of  making  your  conclusion  even  better 
than  your  commencement,  for,  said  this  worthy  and  vera- 
cious person,  '  Mr.  Blackwood,  if  ever  I  were  to  write  a 
novel,  I  would  like  to  write  the  two  first  volumes,  and 
leave  anybody  to  write  the  third  that  liked.'" 

In  the  following  note,  Lister,  author  of  Granh/, 
also  expresses  his  admiration  in  graceful  terms,  and 
^vith  a  copy  of  his  own  novel  for  Miss  Ferrier's 
acceptance : — 

T.  H.  Lister  to  Miss  Ferrier. 

"17  Heriot  Eow,  Feb.  3,  1836. 

"  My  dear  Madam — I  should  feel  that,  in  requesting 
your  acceptance  of  the  book  which  accompanies  this  note, 
I  should  be  presuming  too  much  upon  the  very  short  time 
that  I  have  had  the  honour  of  being  known  to  you,  if 
Mrs.  Lister  had  not  told  me  that  you  had  kindly  spoken 
of  it  in  approving  terms.  I  hope,  therefore,  I  may  be 
allowed,  without  presumption,  to  present  to  you  a  book 
which  you  have  thus  raised  in  the  opinion  of  its  writer, 
and  the  composition  of  which  is  associated  in  my  mind 
with  the  recollection  of  one  of  the  greatest  plf!asures  I 
have  derived  from  novel-reading,  for  which  I  am  indebted 
to  you.  I  believe  the  only  novel  I  read,  or  at  any  rate 
can  now  remember  to  have  read,  during  the  whole  time  I 
was  writing  Granby,  was  your  Inheritance.  —  Believe  me, 
my  dear  Madam,  your  very  faithful,  T.  H.  Lister." 


MISS  FERiaEK's  NOVELS.  17 

From  Mrs.  Lister  (afterwards  Lady  Theresa  Corne- 
wall  Lewis)  Miss  Terrier  also  received  the  following 
comphmentary  note  : — 

Mrs.  Lister  to  Miss  Ferrier, 

"  Thursday  Night,  17  Heriot  Row. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Ferrier — I  cannot  leave  Edinburgh 
without  a  grateful  acknowledgment  of  your  very  kind  and 
flattering  gift.  Mr.  Lister  called  upon  you  in  hopes  of 
being  able  to  wish  you  good-bye,  and  to  tell  you  in  per- 
son how  much  we  were  pleased  with  the  proof  you  have 
given  us  that  we  are  not  unworthy  of  enjoying  and  appre- 
ciating your  delightful  works — pray  accept  our  very  best 
thanks,  and  I  hope  as  an  authoress  you  will  not  feel 
offended  if  I  say  that  they  will  now  have  an  added  charm 
in  our  eyes  from  the  regard  which  our  personal  acquaint- 
ance with  the  writer  has  engendered.  I  know  that,  to 
those  who  do  not  mix  much  in  society,  the  acquaint- 
ance with  strangers  is  often  irksome  :  we  therefore  feel 
the  more  obliged  to  you  for  having  allowed  us  the  pleasure 
of  knowing  you,  and  1  hope  that  if  we  return  in  the 
course  of  the  year  that  we  may  find  you  less  suffering  in 
health,  but  as  kindly  disposed  to  receive  our  visits  as  you 
have  hitherto  been.  We  feel  very  grateful  for  all  the 
kindness  we  have  met  with  in  Edinburgh,  and  amongst 
the  pleasant  reminiscences  of  the  last  five  months  we  must 
always  rank  high  the  having  received  from  you  as  a  token 
of  regard  so  acceptable  a  gift. — Believe  me  (or,  indeed, 
1  ought  to  say  us),  my  dear  Miss  Ferrier,  yours  most 
sincerely,  M.  Theresa  Lister." 

Lord  Murray,  the  late  Scotch  Judge,  writes  to  a 
mutual  friend  of  his  and  Miss  Farriers  (Miss  Walker 
of  Dairy) : — 

VOL.  L  C  M. 


18  MISS  ferpjer's  novels. 

"  I  received  a  copy  of  Inheritance  in  the  name  of  the 
author,  and  as  I  do  not  know  who  the  author  is,  and  I 
suspect  that  you  know  more  than  I  do,  I  trnst  you  will 
find  some  channel  through  which  you  will  convey  my 
thanks.  I  read  Inheritance  with  A^ery  great  pleasure. 
The  characters  are  very  well  conceived,  and  delineated 
with  great  success.  I  may  add  I  have  heard  it  higldy 
commended  by  mucli  better  judges.  Jeffrey  speaks  very 
favourably.  He  is  particularly  pleased  with  the  Nabob 
(Major)  and  spouse,  the  letter  from  the  Lakes,  and  the 
P.S.  to  it.  Lord  Gwydyr,  who  lives  entirely  in  fashion- 
able circles,  said  to  me  much  in  its  praise,  in  which  I 
concurred. 

"  From  many  other  symptoms  I  have  no  doubt  of  its 
complete  success." 

Miss  Hannah  Mackenzie,  daughter  of  the  "Man 
of  Feeling,"  writes  to  her  friend  Miss  Terrier  :  — 

"  Walter  Scott  dined  here  the  other  day,  and  both  he 
and  papa  joined  heartily  in  their  admiration  of  uncle 
Adam,  and  their  wish  to  know  who  he  is.  Sir  W.  also 
admires  Miss  Becky  Dnguid,  and  said  he  thought  her 
quite  a  new  character.  I  should  like  much  to  see  you, 
and  talk  all  over  at  length,  but  fear  to  invite  you  to  my 
own  bower  for  fear  of  suspicion  ;  but  I  trast  you  will  soon 
come  boldly,  and  face  my  whole  family.  I  do  not  think 
you  need  fear  them  much  ;  of  course,  like  other  people, 
they  have  their  '  thoughts,'  but  by  no  means  speak  with 
certainty,  and  Margaret  has  this  minute  assured  us  that 
she  does  not  think  it  Miss  Ferrier's." 

Uncle  Adam,  with  "his  seventy  thousand  pounds," 
and  as  "cross  as  two  sticks,"  in  some  degree  resembled 
old  Mr.  Ferrier,  who  was  somewhat  brusque  and  testy 
in  his  manner,  and  alarmed  many  people  who  ^vere 


MISS  FERPJEIi'S  XOVELS,  19 

otherwise  unacquainted  with  the  true  genuine  worth 
and  honesty  of  his  character.  Miss  Becky  is  a  poor 
old  maid,  saddled  with  commissions  from  all  her 
friends  of  a  most  miscellaneous  description. 

"  She  was  expected  to  attend  all  accoiichements,  christ- 
enings, deaths,  chesting.?,  and  hurials,  but  she  was  seldom 
asked  to  a  marriage,  and  never  to  any  party  of  pleasure." 

She  is  an  admirable  pendant  to  the  "Pratt,"  who 
is  inseparable,  however,  from  her  invisible  nephew, 
Mr.  Anthony  Whyte.  ]\Iiss  Pratt  is  a  sort  of  female 
Paul  Pry,  always  turning  up  at  the  most  unexpected 
moment  at  Lord  Eossville's,  and  finally  puts  the  finish- 
ing stroke  to  the  pompous  old  peer  by  driving  up 
to  his  castle  door  in  the  hearse  of  Mr.  M'Vitie,  the 
Radical  distiller,  being  unable  to  procure  any  other 
mode  of  conveyance  during  a  heavy  snow-storm,  and 
assured  every  one  that  she  fancied  she  v.'as  the  first 
person  who  thought  herself  in  luck  to  have  got  into  a 
hearse,  but  considered  herself  still  luckier  in  having 
got  well  out  of  one. 

Caroline,  Duchess  of  Argyll,^  expresses  her  appre- 
ciation of  The  Inheritance  to  the  author,  for  whom  she 
entertained  a  warm  friendship  : — 

"  Upper  Brook  Street,  Monday  Evening. 
"What  can   I   say  sutficiently  to  express  my  thanks 
either  to  you,  my  dear  Miss  Ferrier,  or  to  the  author  of 

^  Daughter  of  Lord  Jersey,  and  wife  of  the  first  Manjuis  of 
.Anglesea,  whom  she  divorced,  when  Lord  Paget,  in  1810  :  m. 
the  same  year  George,  sixth  Duke  of  Argyll. 


20  MISS  ferrier's  novels. 

The  Inheritance,  wlioever  slie  may  be,  for  the  most  perfect 
edition  of  that  mnst  perfect  book  that  was  ever  written  ! 
and  now  that  I  may  be  allowed  to  have  my  suspicion,  I 
shall  read  it  again  with  double  pleasure.  It  was  so  kind 
of  you  to  remember  your  promise  !  When  I  received 
your  kind  letter  and  books  this  morning  I  was  quite 
delighted  with  my  beautiful  present,  and  to  find  I  was 
not  forgotten  by  one  of  my  best  friends." 

The  Inheritance — a  fact  not  generally  known — was 
dramatised  and  produced  at  Covent  Garden,  but  had 
a  very  short  run,  and  was  an  utter  failure,  as  might 
have  been  expected.  Mrs.  Gore  was  requested  to 
adapt  it  for  the  stage  by  the  chief  comic  actors  of  the 
day,  and  she,  writes  to  Miss  Ferrier  on  the  subject : — 

"  Since  the  management  of  Covent  Garden  Theatre  fell 
into  the  hands  of  Laporte,  he  has  favoured  me  with  a 
commission  to  write  a  comedy  for  him,  and  the  subject 
proposed  by  him  is  again  the  French  novel  of  L'Heretiere, 
which  turns  out  to  be  a  literal  translation  of  The  Inherit- 
ance. He  is  quite  bent  upon  having  Miss  Pratt  on  the 
stage.  I  have  not  chosen  to  give  Monsieur  Laporte  any 
positive  answer  on  the  subject  without  previously  apply- 
ing to  yourself  to  know  whether  you  have  any  intention 
or  inclination  to  apply  to  the  stage  those  adniirable 
talents  which  are  so  greatly  appreciated  in  London." 

Mrs.  Gore,  meanwhile,  had  been  forestalled  in  her 
attempt,  as  a  play  on  the  subject  had  been  laid  before 
the  reader  to  Covent  Garden,  and  she  writes  again  to 
Miss  Ferrier  : — 

"  I  have  since  learned  with  regret  that  the  play  is  the 
production  of  a  certain  Mr.  Fitzball,  the  distinguished 
author  of  the  Flying  Dutchman,  and  sixty  other  successful 


MISS  FEr.RIER'S  NOVELS.  21 

melodramas,  represented  with  great  applause  at  the  Surrey, 
Coburg,  City,  and  Pavilion  Theatres,  etc.;  in  short,  a 
writer  of  a  very  low  class.  The  play  of  The  Inheritance 
has  been  accepted  at  Covent  Garden  ;  but,  from  my  know- 
ledge of  the  general  engagements  of  the  theatre,  I  should 
say  that  it  has  not  the  slightest  chance  of  approaching  to 
representation.  For  your  sake  it  cannot  be  better  than  in 
the  black-box  of  the  manager's  room,  which  secures  it  at 
least  from  performance  at  the  Coburg  Theatre." 

"We  must  let  the  curtain,  so  to  speak,  drop  on  The 
Inheritance,  and  pass  on  to  Destiny.  This  novel  also 
appeared  six  years  after,  in  1831,  and  was  dedicated 
to  Sir  Walter  Scott.  And  he  acknowledges  the  com- 
pliment as  follows : — 

Sir  Walter  Scott  to  Miss  Ferrier. 

"My  dear  Miss  Ferrier — Ann  returned  to-day, 
and  part  of  her  Edinburgh  news  informs  me  that  you 
meditated  honouring  your  present  literary  offspring  with 
my  name,  so  I  do  not  let  the  sun  set  without  saying  how 
much  I  shall  feel  myself  obliged  and  honoured  by  such 
a  compliment.  I  will  not  stand  bandying  compliments 
on  my  w'ant  of  merit,  but  can  swallow  so  great  a  compli- 
ment as  if  I  really  deserved  it,  and  indeed,  as  whatever 
I  do  not  owe  entirely  to  your  goodness  I  maj'^  safely  set 
down  to  your  friendship,  I  shall  scarce  be  more  flattered 
one  way  or  the  other.  I  hope  you  will  make  good  some 
hopes,  which  make  Ann  very  proud,  of  visiting  Abbotsford 
about  April  next.  Nothing  can  give  the  proprietor  more 
pleasure,  for  the  birds,  which  are  a  prodigious  chorus, 
are  making  of  their  nests  and  singing  in  blitlie  chorus. 
'  Pray  come,  and  do  not  make  this  a  flattering  dream.'  I 
know  a  little  the  value  of  my  future  godchild,  since  I 
had  a  peep  at  some  of  tlie  sheets  when  1  was  in  town 


22  MISS  FERRIEFi's  NOVELS. 

during  the  great  snowstorm,  which,  out  of  compassion 
for  an  author  closed  up  within  her  gates,  may  prove  an 
apology  for  his  breach  of  confidence.  So  far  I  must  say 
that  what  I  have  seen  has  had  the  greatest  effect  in  making 
me  curious  for  the  rest. 

"  Believe  me,  dear  Miss  Terrier,  with  the  greatest 
respect,  your  most  sincere,  humble  servant, 

"  Walter  Scott. 

"  Abbotsford,  Tuesday  Evening." 

In  the  next  note  he  acknowledges  a  copy  of  Destiny, 
sent  him  by  the  author  : — 

Sir  Walter  Scott  to  Miss  Ferrier. 

"  Dear  Miss  Ferrier — If  I  had  a  spark  of  gratitude 
in  me  I  ought  to  have  written  you  well-nigh  a  month 
ago,  to  thank  you  in  no  common  fashion  for  Destiny, 
which  by  the  few,  and  at  the  same  time  the  probability, 
of  its  incidents,  your  WTitings  are  those  of  the  first  person 
of  genius  who  has  disarmed  the  little  pedantry  of  the 
Court  of  Cupid  and  of  gods  and  men,  and  allowed  youths 
and  maidens  to  propose  other  alliances  than  those  an  early 
choice  had  pointed  out  to  them.  I  have  not  time  to  tell 
you  all  the  consequences  of  my  revolutionary  doctrine. 
All  these  we  will  talk  over  when  you  come  here,  which 
I  am  rejoiced  to  hear  is  likely  to  be  on  Saturday  next, 
when  Mr.  Cadell  ^  will  be  happy  to  be  your  beau  in  the 
Blucher,^  and  we  will  take  care  are  met  with  at  the  toll. 
Pray  do  not  make  this  a  flattering  dream.  You  are  of 
the  initiated,  so  will  not  be  de  trop  with  Cadell. — I  am, 
always,  with  the  greatest  respect  and  regard,  your  faithful 
and  afl"ectionate  servant,  Walter  Scott. 

"Abbotsford,  Wednesday  Evening." 

1  Destiny  was  published   by  Cadell   through  Sir  Walter's 
intervention,  and  by  it  the  author  realised  £1700. 
*  Name  of  the  stage-coach. 


MISS  fekrier's  novels.  23 

In  1832,  the  year  after  the  birth  of  his  godchild 
Destiny,  poor  Sir  Walter  began  to  show  signs  of  that 
general  break-up  of  mind  and  body  so  speedily  fol- 
lowed by  his  death.  Of  this  sad  state  Miss  Terrier 
writes  to  her  sister,  Mrs.  Kinloch  (in  London) :  — 

"  Alas  !  the  niglit  coineth  when  no  man  can  work,  as 
is  the  case  wdth  that  mighty  genius  which  seems  now 
completely  quenched.  "Well  might  he  be  styled  '  a  bright 
and  benignant  luminary,'  for  while  all  will  deplore 
the  loss  of  that  bright  intellect  which  has  so  long  charmed 
a  world,  many  will  still  more  deeply  lament  the  warm 
and  steady  friend,  whose  kind  and  genuine  influence  was 
ever  freely  diffused  on  all  whom  it  could  benefit.  I  trust, 
however,  he  may  be  spared  yet  awhile  ;  it  might  be  salu- 
tary to  himself  to  con  over  the  lessons  of  a  death-bed, 
and  it  might  be  edifying  to  others  to  have  his  record 
added  to  the  many  that  have  gone  before  him,  that  all 
below  is  vanity.  But  tiU  we  feel  that  we  shall  never 
believe  it  !  I  ougld  to  feel  it  more  than  most  people,  as 
I  sit  in  my  dark  and  solitary  chamber,  shut  out,  as  it 
seems,  from  all  the  '  pride  of  life ' ;  but,  alas  !  worldly 
things  make  their  way  into  the  darkest  and  most  solitary 
recesses,  for  their  dwelling  is  in  the  heart,  and  from 
thence  God  only  can  expel  them." 

Her  first  visit  to  the  antlior  of  Waverley  was  in 
the  autumn  of  1811,  when  she  accompanied  her  father 
to  AshestieL  The  invitation  came  from  Scott  to  Mr, 
Ferrier : — 

Walter  Scott,  Esq.,  to  James  Ferrier,  Esq. 

"  Mt  DEAR  Sir— We  are  delighted  to  see  that  your 
feet  are  free  and  disposed  to  turn  themselves  our  way — 
a  pleasure  which  we  cannot  consent  to  put  off  till  we  have 


24  MISS  ferrier's  novels. 

a  house  at  Abbotsford,  which  is  but  a  distant  prospect. 
We  are  quite  disengaged  and  alone,  saving  the  company 
of  Mr.  Terry  the  comedian,  who  is  assisting  me  in  plan- 
ning my  cottage,  having  been  bred  an  architect  under 
Wjat.  He  reads  to  us  after  coffee  in  the  evening,  which 
is  very  pleasant.  This  letter  will  reach  you  to-morrow, 
so  probably  Thursday  may  be  a  convenient  day  of  march, 
when  we  shall  expect  you  to  dinner  about  five  o'clock, 
unless  the  weather  should  be  very  stormy,  in  which  case 
w-e  should  be  sorry  Miss  Ferrier  should  risk  getting  cold. 
To-day  is  clearing  up  after  a  week's  dismal  weather,  which 
may  entitle  us  to  expect  some  pleasant  October  days,  not 
the  worst  of  our  climate.  The  road  is  by  Middleton  and 
Bankhouse  ;  we  are  ten  miles  from  the  last  stage,  and 
thirty  from  Edinburgh,  hilly  road»  There  is  a  ford 
beneath  Ashestiel  generally  very  passable,  but  we  will 
have  the  boat  in  readiness  in  case  Miss  Ferrier  prefers  it, 
or  the  water  should  be  full.  Mrs.  Scott  joins  in  kind 
respects  to  Miss  Ferrier,  and  I  ever  am,  dear  Sir, — yours 
truly  obliged,  W.  Scott. 

"  Ashestiel,  October  7." 

It  was  in  1811  that  Scott  vras  appointed  a  clerk  of 
session,  and  to  Mr.  Ferrier  he  was  in  some  measure 
indebted  for  that  post. 

Her  last  visit  to  Abbotsford  is  touchingly  alluded 
to  by  Lockhart  in  his  Life  of  Scott : — 

"  To  assist  them  in  amusing  him  in  the  hours  which 
he  spent  out  of  his  study,  and  especially  that  he  might 
make  these  hours  more  frequent,  his  daughter  had  invited 
his  friend  the  authoress  of  Marriage  to  come  out  to 
Abbotsford,  and  her  coming  was  serviceable.  For  she 
knew  and  loved  him  well,  and  she  had  seen  enough  of 
affliction  akin  to  his  to  be  well  skilled  in  dealing  with  it. 
She  could  not  be  an  hour  in  his  company  without  observ- 


MISS  feerikr's  novels.  25 

iiig  what  filled  Lis  children  with  more  soitow  than  all 
the  rest  of  the  case.  He  would  begin  a  story  as  gaily  as 
ever,  and  go  on,  in  spite  of  the  hesitation  in  his  speech, 
to  tell  it  with  highly  picturesque  effect — but  before  he 
reached  the  point,  it  would  seem  as  if  some  internal  spring 
had  given  way.  He  paused  and  gazed  round  him  with 
the  blank  anxiety  of  look  that  a  blind  man  has  when  he 
has  dropped  his  staff.  Unthinking  friends  sometimes 
gave  him  the  catch-word  abruptly.  I  noticed  the  delicacy 
of  Miss  Ferrier  on  such  occasions.  Her  sight  was  bad, 
and  she  took  care  not  to  use  her  glasses  when  he  was 
speaking,  and  she  affected  also  to  be  troubled  with  deafness, 
and  would  say,  '  Well,  I  am  getting  as  dull  as  a  post,  I 
have  not  heard  a  word  since  you  said  so  and  so,'  being 
eure  to  mention  a  circumstance  behind  that  at  which  he 
had  really  halted.  He  then  took  up  the  thread  with  his 
habitual  smile  of  courtesy,  as  if  forgetting  his  case  entirely 
in  the  consideration  of  the  lady's  infirmity." 

A  very  interesting  account  of  her  recollections  of 
visits  to  Ashestiel  and  Abbotsford  appeared  in  the 
February  (1874)  number  of  this  magazine  :  it  is  short, 
but  gives  a  sad  and  pathetic  picture  of  the  great  man 
and  his  little  grandson  as  they  sat  side  by  side  at 
table. 

The  following  letter  on  Destbiij  is  from  Mrs. 
Fletcher,^  a  distinguislied  citizen  of  Edinburgh  at 
the  commencement  of  this  century,  and  a  leader  of 
the  Whig  society  there.  For  that  reason  it  is  worthy 
of  insertion  here.  Her  son  married  Miss  Clavering, 
as  before  mentioned  :— 


^  Her  Memoir,  by  her  daughter,  Lady  Richardson,  was  pub- 
lished not  loij"  since. 


26  MISS  ferkiee's  novels. 

Mrs.  Fletdier  to  Miss  Ferrier. 

"Tadcaster,  April  16,  1831. 
"  My  dear  Miss  Ferrier — I  should  not  have  been 
80  long  in  thanking  you  for  your  kind  present,  had  I  not 
wished  to  suhject  Destiny  to  a  severer  test  than  that 
chosen  by  the  French  dramatist.  His  old  woman  pro- 
bably partook  of  the  vivacity  of  her  nation,  but  my  old 
aunt,  as  Mary  will  tell  you,  is  sick  and  often  very  sorrow- 
ful, and  yet  Destiny  has  made  her  laugh  heartily,  and 
cheated  her  of  many  wearisome  hours  of  lamentation. 
My  grandson,  Archibald  Tavlor,  too,  forsook  football  and 
cricket  for  your  fascinating  book,  and  told  me  '  he  could 
sit  up  all  night  to  see  what  had  become  of  Ronald.'  Mr. 
Ribley  and  '  Kitty,  my  dear,'  hit  his  comic  fancy  particu- 
larly. My  two  most  bookish  neighbours,  one  an  Oxford 
divine,  and  the  other  a  Cambridge  student,  declare  that 
'  Glenroy  and  M'Dow  are  exquisite  originals.'  My  own 
favourite,  '  Molly  Macaulay,'  preserves  her  good-humour 
to  the  last,  though  I  thought  you  rather  unmerciful  in 
shutting  her  up  so  long  in  Johnnie's  nursery.  The 
fashionable  heartlessness  of  Lady  Elizabeth  and  her 
daughter  is  coloured  to  the  life,  and  the  refreshment  of 
returning  to  nature,  truth,  affection,  and  happiness  at  Inch 
Orran  is  admirably  managed.  Mary  tells  me  you  have 
returned  from  Fife  with  fresh  materials  for  future  volumes. 
Go  on,  dear  Miss  Ferrier,  you  are  accountable  for  the 
talents  entrusted  to  you.  Go  on  to  detect  selfishness  in 
all  its  varioxis  forms  and  foldings  ;  to  put  pride  and  vanity 
to  shame  ;  to  prove  that  vulgarity  belongs  more  to  charac- 
ter than  condition,  and  that  all  who  make  the  world  their 
standard  are  essentially  vulgar  and  low-minded,  however 
noble  their  exterior  or  refined  their  manners  may  be,  and 
that  true  dignity  and  elevation  belong  only  to  those  to 
whom  Milton's  lines  may  be  applied  : 

"  'Thy  care  is  fixed,  and  zealously  attends 
To  fill  thy  odorous  lamp  with  deeds  of  light, 
And  hope  that  reaps  not  shanie. '  " 


MISS  ferrier's  novels.  27 

The  following  letter  from  Joanna  Baillie  gives  a 
very  just  and  truthful  criticism  on  Destiny : — 

Miss  Joanna  Baillie  to  Miss  Ferrier. 

"Hampstead,  May  1831. 
"  My  dear  Madam — I  received  your  very  kind  present 
of  your  last  work  about  three  weeks  ago,  and  am  very 
grateful  for  the  pleasure  I  have  had  in  i-eading  it,  and  for 
being  thus  remembered  by  you.  I  thank  you  also  for  the 
pleasure  and  amusement  which  my  sisters  and  some  other 
friends  have  drawn  from  it.  The  first  volume  struck  me 
as  extremely  clever,  the  description  of  the  different  cha- 
racters, their  dialogues,  and  tiie  writer's  own  remarks, 
excellent.  There  is  a  spur  both  with  the  wTiter  and  the 
reader  on  the  opening  of  a  work  which  naturally  gives 
the  beginning  of  a  story  many  advantages,  but  I  must 
confess  that  your  characters  never  forget  their  outset,  but 
are  well  supported  to  the  very  end.  Your  Molly  Mac- 
aulay^  is  a  delightful  creature,  and  the  footing  she  is  on 
with  Glenroy  very  naturally  represented,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  rising  of  her  character  at  the  end,  when  the  weight 
of  contempt  is  removed  from  her,  which  is  very  good  and 
true  to  nature.  Your  minister,  M'Dow,^  hateful  as  he  is, 
is  very  amusing,  and  a  true  representative  of  a  few  of  the 
Scotch  clergy,  and  with  different  language  and  manners  of 

^  The  humble  and  devoted  dependant  of  the  proud  chief 
Glenroy,  and  governess  to  his  children.  She  was  drawn  from 
life,  for  Mrs.  Kinloch  writes  to  her  sister.  Miss  Ferrier  :  "  Molly 
Macaulay  is  charming  ;  her  niece,  Miss  Gumming,  is  an  old 
acquaintance  of  mine,  and  told  me  the  character  was  drawn 
to  the  life.  The  old  lady  is  still  alive,  in  her  ninety-fii-st 
year,  at  Inveraray,  and  Miss  C. ,  who  is  a  very  clever,  pleasing 
person,  seems  delighted  with  the  truth  and  spirit  of  the  whole 
character  of  her  aunty." 

^  Lord  Jeffrey  considered  M  'Dow  "  an  entire  and  perfect 
chrysolite,  not  to  be  meddled  with." 


28  MISS  ferrier's  novels. 

a  great  many  of  the  English  clergy — worldly,  mean  men, 
who  boldly  make  their  way  into  every  great  and  wealthy 
family  for  the  sake  of  preferment  and  good  cheer.  Your 
Lady  Elizabeth,  too,  with  all  her  selfishness  and  excess  of 
absurdity,  is  true  to  herself  throughout,  ami  makes  a  very 
characteristic  ending  of  it  in  her  third  marriage.  But 
why  should  I  tease  you  by  going  through  the  different 
characters  ?  Suffice  it  to  say  that  I  thank  yon  very 
heartily,  and  congratulate  you  on  again  having  added  a 
work  of  so  much  merit  to  our  stock  of  national  novels. 
Perhaps  before  this  you  have  received  a  very  short  publi- 
cation of  mine  on  a  very  serious  subject.  I  desired  my 
bookseller  to  send  a  copy  to  you,  enclosed  along  with  one 
to  your  friend,  Miss  Mackenzie.  How  far  you  will  agree 
with  my  opinions  regarding  it  I  cannot  say,  but  of  one 
thing  I  am  sure,  that  you  will  judge  with  candour  and 
charity.  I  should  have  sent  one  to  Mr.  Alison  had  I  not 
thought  it  presumptuous  in  me  to  send  such  a  work  to 
any  clergyman,  and,  with  only  one  exception  (a  Presby- 
terian clergyman),  I  have  abstained  from  doing  so.  I 
was  very  much  obliged  to  Mrs.  Mackenzie,  Lord  M.'s  lady, 
for  the  letter  she  was  so  good  as  to  write  me  in  her  sister- 
in-law's  .stead.  If  you  should  meet  her  soon,  may  I  beg 
that  you  will  have  the  goodness  to  thank  her  in  my 
name.  I  was  very  sorry  indeed  to  learn  from  her  that 
Miss  Mackenzie  had  been  so  ill,  and  was  then  so  weak, 
and  that  the  favourable  account  I  had  received  of  your 
eyes  had  been  too  favourable.  With  all  good  wishes  to 
you,  in  which  my  sister  begs  to  join  me, — I  remain,  my 
dear  Madam,  gratefully  and  sincerely  yours, 

"J.  Baillie." 

Granville  Penn,  the  descendant  of  the  founder  of 
Pennsylvania,  records  the  impression  Destiny  made  on 
him,  and  Avhich  he  communicates  to  Miss  Erskine  of 
Cardross,  who  copied  and  sent  it  to  the  author,  as 
follows : — 


MISS  ferrier's  novels.  29 

"  My  dear  Madam — I  return  your  book,  but  I  am 
unable  to  return  you  adequate  thanks  for  being  the  cause 
of  my  reading  it.  I  have  done  this  (and  all  with  nie) 
with  delight,  from  the  interest  and  admiration  at  the 
whole  composition,  the  novelty  and  excitement  of  its  plan, 
the  exquisite  and  thrilling  manner  of  its  disclosure,  the 
absence  of  all  flat  and  heavy  intervals,  the  conception  and 
support  of  the  characters,  the  sound  and  salutary  moral 
that  pervades  it  all — these  make  me  love  and  honour  its 
valuable  authoress,  and  lament  that  I  am  not  in  the 
number  of  her  acquaintance.  We  all  doat  upon  Miss 
Macaula}',  and  grieve  that  she  is  not  living  at  Richmond 
or  Petersham  ;  and  Mr.  M'Dow  has  suppl.ed  me  with  a 
new  name  for  our  little  young  dog,  whom  I  have  called, 
in  memorial  of  his  little  nephew  (or  niece),  Little  M'Fee. 
With  all  the  thanks,  however,  that  I  can  offer,  etc. 

"  Granville  Penn. 
"Devonshire  Cottage,  1st  May  1831." 

The  next  tribute  of  admiration  bestowed  on  Destiny 
was  from  Sir  James  Mackintosh : — 

Sir  James  Mackintosh  to  Miss  Ferrier. 

"London,  IO//1  Jime  1831. 
"  Dear  Miss  Ferrier — Let  me  tell  you  a  fact,  which 
I  hope  you  will  excuse  me  from  mentioning,  as  some  sub- 
sidiary proof  of  your  power.  On  the  day  of  the  dissolu- 
tion of  Parliament,  and  in  the  critical  hours  between 
twelve  and  three,  I  was  employed  in  reading  part  of  the 
second  volume  of  Destiny.  My  mind  was  so  completely 
occupied  on  your  colony  in  Argyleshire,  that  I  did  not 
throw  away  a  thought  on  kings  or  parliaments,  and  was 
not  moved  by  the  general  curiosity  to  stir  abroad  till  I 
had  finished  your  volume.  It  would  have  been  notliing 
if  you  had  so  agitated  a  youth  of  genius  and  susceptibility, 
prone  to  literary  enthusiasm,  but  such  a  victory  over  an 


30  MISS  ferrier's  novels. 

old  hack  is  perhaps  worthy  of  your  notice. — I  am,  my 
dear  Miss  Terrier,  your  friend  and  admirer, 

"J.  Mackintosh." 

Professor  Wilson,  "  Christopher  North,"  and  his 
uncle,  Mr.  Eobert  Sym,  W.S.,  "Timothy  Tickler," 
discuss  the  merits  of  Destiny  in  the  far-famed  Nodes : 

"  Tickler. — '  I  would  also  except  Miss  Susan  Ferrier. 
Her  novels,  no  doubt,  have  many  defects,  their  plots  are 
poor,  their  episodes  disproportionate,  and  the  characters 
too  often  caricatures  ;  but  they  are  all  thick-set  with  such 
specimens  of  sagacity,  such  happy  traits  of  nature,  such 
flashes  of  genuine  satire,  such  easy  humour,  sterling  good 
sense,  and,  above  all — God  only  knows  where  she  picked 
it  up — mature  and  perfect  knowledge  of  the  world,  that 
I  think  we  may  safely  anticipate  for  them  a  different  fate 
from  what  awaits  even  the  cleverest  of  juvenile  novels.' 

"  North. — '  They  are  the  works  of  a  very  clever  woman, 
sir,  and  they  have  one  feature  of  true  and  melancholy 
interest  quite  peculiar  to  themselves.  It  is  in  them  alone 
that  the  ultimate  breaking-down  and  debasement  of  the 
Highland  character  has  been  depicted.  Sir  Walter  Scott 
had  tixed  the  enamel  of  genius  over  the  last  fitful  gleams 
of  their  half-savage  chivalry,  but  a  humbler  and  sadder 
scene — the  age  of  lucre  -  banished  clans  —  of  chieftains 
dwindled  into  imitation  squires,  and  of  chiefs  content  to 
barter  the  recollections  of  a  thousand  years  for  a  few 
gaudy  seasons  of  Almacks  and  Crockfords,  the  euthanasia 
of  kilted  aldermen  and  steamboat  pibrochs  was  reserved 
for  Miss  Ferrier.' 

"  Ticlder. — '  She  in  general  fails  almost  as  egregiously 
as  Hook  does  in  the  pathetic,^  but  in  her  last  piece  there 

^  This  is  not  true,  as  there  are  many  pathetic  passages  in 
Destiny,  particularly  between  Edith,  the  heroine,  and  her  faith- 
less lover,  Sir  Reginald. 


MISS  ferpjer's  novels.  31 

is  one  sceue  of  this  description  worthy  of  either  Sterne  or 
Goldsmith.  I  mean  where  the  young  man^  supposed  to 
have  been  lost  at  sea,  revisits,  after  a  lapse  of  time, 
the  precincts  of  his  own  home,  watching  unseen  in  the 
twilight  the  occupations  and  bearings  of  the  different 
members  of  the  family,  and  resolving,  under  the  influ- 
ence of  a  most  generous  feeling,  to  keep  the  secret  of  his 
preservation.' 

"  North. — '  I  remember  it  well,  and  you  might  bestow 
the  same  kind  of  praise  on  the  whole  character  of  Molly 
Macaulay.  It  is  a  picture  of  humble,  kind-hearted, 
thorough-going  devotion  and  long-suffering,  indefatigable 
gentleness,  of  which,  perhaps,  no  sinner  of  our  gender 
could  have  adequately  tilled  up  the  outline.  Miss  Ferrier 
appears  habitually  in  the  light  of  a  hard  satirist,  but  there 
is  always  a  fund  of  romance  at  the  bottom  of  every  true 
woman's  heart  who  has  tried  to  stifle  and  suppress  that 
element  more  carefully  and  pertinaciously,  and  yet  who 
has  drawn,  in  spite  of  herself,  more  genuine  tears  than 
the  authoress  of  Simple  Susan.'  " 

The  story  of  Destiny,  like  its  predecessors,  is  laid 
in  Miss  Ferrier's  favourite  Highlands,  and  it  contains 
several  picturesque  and  vivid  descriptions  of  scenery 
there, — Inveraray,  and  its  surroundings  generally, 
forming  the  model  for  her  graphic  pen.  Much  of  this 
novel  was  written  at  Stirling  Castle,  when  she  was 
there  on  a  Adsit  to  her  sister,  Mrs.  Graham,"  whose 

^  Ronald  Malcolm. 

^  Celebrated  by  Burns,  the  poet,  for  her  beaut}^  She  inspired 
his  muse  when  turning  the  corner  of  George  Street,  Edinburgh. 
The  lines  addressed  to  her  are  to  be  found  in  his  Poems.  She 
was  also  a  highly-gifted  artist.  The  illustrations  in  the  work 
called  the  Stirling  Heads  are  from  her  pencil.  It  was  pub- 
lished by  Blackwood,  1817. 


32  MISS  fekrier's  novels. 

husband,  General  Graham,  was  governor  of  that 
garrison.  After  the  publication  of  this  last  work, 
and  the  offer  of  a  thousand  pounds  from  a  London 
publisher  for  anything  from  her  pen,^  she  entirely 
ceased  from  her  literary  labours,  being  content  to  rest 
upon  the  solid  and  enduring  reputation  her  three 
"  bantlings  "  (as  she  called  her  novels)  had  won  for 
her.  The  following  fragment,  however,  was  found 
among  her  papers,  and  is  the  portrait  of  another  old 
maid,  and  might  serve  as  a  companion  to  Miss  Pratt. 
As  it  is  amusing,  and  in  the  writer's  satirical  style,  I 
lay  it  before  my  readers  : — 

"  Miss  Betty  Landon  was  a  single  lady  of  small  for- 
tune, few  personal  charms,  and  a  most  jaundiced  imagina- 
tion. There  was  no  event,  not  even  the  most  fortunate, 
from  which  Miss  Betty  could  not  extract  evil  ;  everything, 
even  the  milk  of  human  kindness,  with  her  turned  to  gall 
and  vinegar.  Thus,  if  any  of  her  friends  were  married, 
she  sighed  over  the  miseries  of  the  wedded  state  ;  if  they 
were  single,  she  bewailed  their  solitary,  useless  condition  ; 
if  they  were  parents,  she  pitied  them  for  having  children  ; 
if  they  had  no  children,  she  pitied  them  for  being  child- 
less. But  one  of  her  own  letters  will  do  greater  justice 
to  the  turn  of  her  mind  than  the  most  elaborate  description. 

"  '  My  dear  Miss 1  ought  to  have  WTitten  to 

you  long  before  now,  but  I  have  suffered  so  much  from 
the  constant  changes  of  the  weather  that  the  wonder  is 
I  am  able  to  hold  a  pen.  During  the  whole  summer  the 
heat  was  really  quite  intolerable,  not  a  drop  of  rain  or 
a  breath  of  wind,  the  cattle  dying  for  absolute  want,  the 

^  She  says  (1837),  "  I  made  two  attempts  to  write  something, 
but  could  not  please  myself,  and  would  not  publish  anything." 


MISS  feerier's  novels.  33 

vegetables  dear  and  scarce,  and  as  for  fruit — that,  you 
know,  in  tliis  town,  is  at  all  times  scarce  and  bad,  and 
particularly  when  there  is  the  greatest  occasion  for  it. 
In  the  autumn  we  never  had  two  days  alike,  either  wind 
or  rain,  or  frost,  or  something  or  another  ;  and  as  for  our 
winter— you  know  what  that  is — either  a  constant  splash 
of  rain,  or  a  frost  like  to  take  the  skin  off  you.  For  these 
six  weeks  I  may  say  I  have  had  a  constant  running  at 
my  head,  with  a  return  of  my  old  complaint ;  but  as  for 
doctors,  I  see  no  good  they  do,  except  to  load  people's 
stomachs  and  pick  their  pockets  :  everything  now  is  im- 
position ;  I  really  think  the  very  pills  are  not  what  they 
were  thirty  years  ago.  How  people  with  families  con- 
tinue to  live  is  a  mystery  to  me  ;  and  peoi^le  still  going 
on  marrying,  in  the  face  of  national  debt,  taxes,  a  new 
war,  a  starving  population,  ruined  commerce,  and  no 
outlet  for  young  men  in  auy  quarter — God  only  knows 
what  is  to  be  the  end  of  all  this  !  In  spite  of  all  this, 
these  thoughtless  young  creatures,  the  Truemans,  have 
thought  proper  to  make  out  their  marriage  ;  he  is  just 
five-and-twenty,  and  she  is  not  yet  nineteen  !  so  you  may 
judge  what  a  prudent,  well-managed  establishment  it  will 
be.  He  is  in  a  good  enough  business  at  present,  but  in 
these  times  who  can  tell  what's  to  happen  ?  He  may  be 
wallowing  in  wealth  to-day,  and  bankrupt  to-morrow. 
His  sister's  marriage  with  Fairplay  is  now  quite  off,  and 
her  prospects  for  life,  poor  thing,  completely  wrecked  ! 
Her  looks  are  entirely  gone,  and  her  spirits  quite  broken. 
She  is  not  like  the  same  creature,  and,  to  be  sure,  to  a  girl 
who  had  set  her  heart  upon  being  married,  it  must  be  a 
great  and  severe  disappointment,  for  this  was  her  only 
chance,  unless  she  tries  India,  and  the  expense  of  the 
outfit  must  be  a  complete  bar  to  that.  You  would  hear 
that  poor  Lady  Oldhouse  has  had  a  son — it  seemed  a 
desirable  thing,  situated  as  they  are  with  an  entailed  pro- 
perty ;  and  yet  when  I  look  around  me,  and  see  the  way 
that  sons  go  on,  the  dissipation  and  extravagance,  and  the 

VOL.  L  D  M. 


34  MISS  ferrier's  novels. 

heartbreak  they  are  to  their  parents,  I  think  a  son  any- 
thing but  a  blessing.  No  word  of  anything  of  tliat  kind 
to  the  poor  Richardsons  ;  with  all  their  riches,  they  are 
without  any  one  to  come  after  them.  The  Provvleys  are 
up  in  the  air  at  having  got  what  they  call  "  a  fine  appoint- 
ment" for  their  fourth  son,  but  for  my  part  I'm  really 
sick  of  hearing  of  boys  going  to  India,  for  after  all  what 
do  they  do  there  ?  I  never  hear  of  their  sending  home 
anything  bvit  black  children,  and  when  they  come  home 
themselves,  what  do  they  bring  but  yellow  faces,  worn-out 
constitutions,  and  livers  like  cocked-hats,  crawling  about 
from  one  watering-place  to  another,  till  they  are  picked 
up  by  some  light-hearted,  fortune-hunting  miss,  who  does 
not  care  twopence  fov  them.'" 

A  beautiful  and  strong  feature  in  Miss  Ferrier's 
character  was  her  intense  devotion  to  her  father,  and 
when  he  died  the  loss  to  her  was  irreparable.  She 
also  was  much  attached  to  a  very  handsome  brother, 
James ;  he  was  colonel  of  the  94th  regiment,  or  Scots 
Brigade,  and  died  in  India  in  1804,  at  the  early  age 
of  twenty-seven.  He  had  been  at  the  siege  of  Serin- 
gapatam  in  1799,  and  was  much  distinguished  by 
the  notice  of  Napoleon  at  Paris  in  February  1803, 
whence  he  writes  to  his  sister  Susan  : — 

"  I  think  I  wrote  you  I  had  been  introduced  to  the 
Chief  Consul.  I  was  on  Sunday  last  presented  to  his 
lady,  whom  I  do  not  at  all  admire.  The  great  man  spoke 
to  me  then  again,  which  is  a  very  unusual  thing,  and  I  am 
told  by  the  French  I  must  be  in  his  good  graces  ;  however, 
I  myself  rather  think  it  was  my  good  fortune  only  :  at  all 
events  it  has  given  me  much  pleasure,  for  it  would  have 
only  been  doing  the  thing  half  if  he  had  not  spoken  to 
me.      I  do  not  think  any  of  the  pictures  like  him  much, 


MISS  ferrier's  novels.  35 

althongh  most  of  them  have  some  resemblance  ;  they  give 
him  a  frown  in  general,  which  he  certainly  has  not — so 
far  from  it,  that  when  he  speaks  he  has  one  of  the  finest 
expressions  possible." 

Here,  unfortunately,  this  interesting  description 
comes  abruptly  to  an  end,  the  rest  of  the  letter  being 
lost.  On  account  of  failing  health  and  increased 
bodily  languor.  Miss  Ferrier  latterly  lived  a  very 
retired  life,  seeing  few  but  very  intimate  friends,  and, 
as  she  said,  "  We  are  more  recluse  than  ever,  as  our 
little  circle  is  yearly  contracting,  and  my  eyes  are 
more  and  more  averse  to  light  than  ever." 

Again  she  Avrites  : — 

"  I  can  say  nothing  good  of  myself,  my  cough  is  very 
severe,  and  will  probably  continiie  so,  at  least  as  long  as 
this  weather  lasts  ;  but  I  have  many  comforts,  for  which 
I  am  thankful  ;  amongst  those  I  must  reckon  silence  and 
darkness,  which  are  my  best  companions  at  present," 

For  years  she  had  suffered  from  her  eyes,  being 
nearly  quite  blind  of  one.^  In  1830  she  went  to 
London  to  consult  an  oculist,  but  unfortunately  derived 
little  benefit.  While  there,  she  visited  Isleworth,  iu 
order  to  see  a  villa  belonging  to  Lord  Cassillis,  and 
which  subsequently  figured  in  Destiny  as  "  Wood- 
lands," Lady  Waldegrave's  rural  retreat  near  London. 
A  valued  friend  ^  who  saw  much  of  her  remarked  : — 

'  Lady  Morgan,  a  fellow-sufferer  from  her  eyes,  Avas  most 
anxious  she  should  consult  JSIr.  Alexander,  the  eminent  oculist, 
as  he  entirely  cured  her  after  four  years'  expectation  of  total 
blindness,  ^  Lady  Richardson. 


36  MISS  ferkiee's  novels. 

"  The  Avonderful  vivacity  she  maintained  in  the  midst 
of  darkness  and  pain  for  so  many  years,  the  humour,  wit, 
and  honesty  of  her  character,  as  well  as  the  Christian 
submission  with  which  she  bore  her  great  privation  and 
general  discomfort  when  not  sufferin<,'  acute  pain,  made 
every  one  who  knew  her  desirous  to  alleviate  the  tedious- 
ness  of  her  days,  and  I  used  to  read  a  great  deal  to  her  at 
one  time,  and  I  never  left  her  darkened  chamber  without 
feeling  that  I  had  gained  something  better  than  the  book 
we  might  be  reading,  from  her  quick  perception  of  its 
faults  and  its  beauties,  and  her  unmerciful  remarks  on  all 
that  was  mean  or  unworthy  in  conduct  or  expression." 

But  perhaps  the  most  faithful  picture  of  her  is 
conveyed  in  this  brief  sentence  from  Scott's  diary, 
who  describes  her 

"  As  a  gifted  personage,  having,  besides  her  great  talents, 
conversation  the  least  exigeante  of  any  author-female,  at 
least,  whom  I  have  ever  seen  among  the  long  list  I  have 
encountered  ;  simple,  full  of  humour,  and  exceedingly 
ready  at  repartee,  and  all  this  without  the  least  affectation 
of  the  blue-stocking." 

From  the  natural  modesty  of  her  character  she  had 
a  great  dislike  to  her  biography,  or  memorial  of  her  in 
any  shape,  being  -written,  for  she  destroyed  all  letters 
that  might  have  been  used  for  such  a  purpose,  pub- 
licity of  anj'  kind  being  most  distasteful  to  her,  evi- 
dence of  which  is  very  clearly  shown  in  the  first  part 
of  this  narrative.  The  chief  secret  of  her  success  as  a 
novelist  (setting  aside  her  great  genius)  was  the  great 
care  and  time  she  bestowed  on  the  formation  of  each 
novel — an   interval   of  six  years  occurring  between 


MISS  fereier's  novels.  37 

each,  the  result  being  delineations  of  character  that 
are  unique. 

Unfortunately  there  is  little  to  relate  regarding 
her  childhood,  that  most  interesting  period  of  human 
existence  in  the  lives  of  (and  Avhich  is  generally  dis- 
tinguished by  some  uncommon  traits  of  character) 
people  of  genius — save  that  she  had  for  a  school  com- 
panion and  playfellow  the  late  Lord  Brougham,  the 
distinguished  statesman ;  she  was  remarkable  also 
for  her  power  of  mimicry.  An  amusing  anecdote 
of  this  rather  dangerous  gift  is  the  following :  Her 
brothers  and  sisters  returned  home  from  a  ball,  very 
hungry,  and  entered  her  room,  where  they  supposed 
she  lay  asleep,  and,  while  discussing  the  events  of  the 
evening  and  the  repast  they  had  procured  by  stealth 
(unknown  to  their  father),  they  were  suddenly  put  to 
flight  by  the  sounds  and  voice,  as  they  thought,  of 
their  dreaded  parent  ascending  the  stairs,  and  in  their 
confusion  and  exit  from  the  room  overturned  chairs 
and  tables,  much  to  the  amusement  of  little  Susan, 
who,  no  doubt,  enjoyed  the  fright  and  commotion  she 
had  caused,  and  who  mimicked  under  the  cover  of  the 
bedclothes  the  accents  of  her  redoubtable  parent — 
a  fit  punishment,  as  she  thought,  for  their  ruthless 
invasion  of  her  chamber,  and  their  not  offering  her  -a 
share  of  their  supper.  An  old  Miss  Peggy  Campbell 
(sister  to  Sir  Islay  Campbell,  Pi*esident  of  the  Court 
of  Session)  was  also  taken  off  by  her,  and  so  like  that 
her  father  actually  came  into  the  room,  where  she  was 
amusing  her  hearers,   thinking  that  jVIiss  Campbell 


38  MISS  feerier's  novels. 

was  really  present.  When  she  died  a  blank  was  left 
in  her  native  city  that  has  not  been  since  filled,  the 
modern  Athens  having  somewhat  deteriorated  in  the 
wit,  learning,  and  refinement  that  so  distinguished  her 
ill  the  days  that  are  gone. 


EECOLLECTIOXS  OF  VISITS 
TO  ASHESTIEL  AND  ABBOTSFOED.* 

By  SUSAN  EDMONSTONE  TERRIER, 

Author  of  ^ Marriage,''  ' Inheritance,'  and  'Destiny.' 

I  HAVE  never  kept  either  note-book  or  journal,  and 
as  my  memory  is  not  a  retentive  one  I  have  allowed 
much  to  escape  which  I  should  now  vainly  attempt  to 
recall.  Some  things  must,  however,  have  made  a 
vivid  and  durable  impression  on  my  mind,  as  frag- 
ments remain,  after  the  lapse  of  years,  far  more 
distinct  than  occurrences  of  much  more  recent  date ; 
such,  amongst  others,  are  my  recollections  of  my  visits 
to  Ashestiel  and  Abbotsford. 

The  first  took  place  in  the  autumn  of  1811,  in 
consequence  of  repeated  and  pressing  invitations  from 
Mr.  Scott  to  my  father,  in  which  I  was  included. 
Nothing  could  be  kinder  than  our  welcome,  or  more 
gratifying  than  the  attentions  we  received  during  our 
stay ;  but  the  weather  was  too  broken  and  stormy  to 
admit  of  our  enjoying  any  of  the  pleasant  excursions 
our  more  weather-proof  host  had  intended  for  us. 

^  Reprinted  from  the  Temple  Bar  Magazine  for  February  1874. 


40  EECOLLErXIOXS  OF  VISITS  TO 

My  father  and  I  could  therefore  only  take  short  drives 
with  Mrs.  Scott,  while  the  bard  (about  one  o'clock) 
mounted  his  pony,  and  accompanied  by  Mr.  Terry  the 
comedian,  his  own  son  Walter,  and  our  young  relative 
George  Kinloch,  sallied  forth  for  a  long  morning's 
ride  in  spite  of  wind  and  rain.  In  the  evening  Mr. 
Terry  commonly  read  some  scenes  from  a  play,  to 
which  Mr.  Scott  listened  with  delight,  though  every 
word  must  have  been  quite  familiar  to  him,  as  he 
occasionally  took  a  part  in  the  dialogue  impromptu  ; 
at  other  times  he  recited  old  and  awesome  ballads 
from  memory,  the  very  names  of  which  I  have  forgot. 
The  night  preceding  our  departure  had  blown  a  perfect 
hurricane  ;  we  were  to  leave  immediately  after  break- 
fast, and  while  the  carriage  was  preparing  Mr.  Scott 
stepped  to  a  writing-table  and  wrote  a  few  hurried 
lines  in  the  course  of  a  very  few  minutes ;  these  he 
put  into  my  hand  as  he  led  me  to  the  carriage ;  they 
were  in  allusion  to  the  storm,  coupled  with  a  friendly 
adieu,  and  are  to  be  found  in  my  autograph  album. 

"  The  raouiitain  winds  are  up,  and  proud 
O'er  heath  and  hill  careering  loud  ; 
The  groaning  forest  to  its  power 
Yields  all  that  formed  our  summer  bower. 
The  summons  wakes  the  anxious  swain, 
Whose  tardy  shocks  still  load  the  plain, 
And  bids  the  sleepless  merchant  weep, 
Whose  richer  hazard  loads  the  deep. 
For  me  the  blast,  or  low  or  high, 
Blows  nought  of  wealth  or  poverty  ; 
It  can  but  whirl  in  whimsies  vain 
The  windmill  of  a  restless  brain, 


ASHESTIEL  AND  ABBOTSFORD.  41 

And  bid  me  tell  in  slipshod  Averse 
What  honest  prose  might  best  rehearse  ; 
How  much  we  forest-dwellers  grieve 
Our  valued  friends  our  cot  should  leave. 
Unseen  each  beauty  that  we  boast, 
The  little  wonders  of  our  coast, 
That  still  the  pile  of  Melrose  gray, 
For  you  must  rise  in  minstrel's  lay, 
And  Yarrow's  birk  immortal  long 
For  j'ou  but  bloom  in  rural  song. 
Yet  Hope,  who  still  in  present  sorrow 
Whispers  the  promise  of  to-morrow, 
Tells  us  of  future  days  to  come, 
"When  you  shall  glad  our  rustic  home  ; 
When_this  wild  whirlwind  shall  be  still. 
And  summer  sleep  on  glen  and  hill, 
And  Tweed,  unvexed  by  storm,  shall  guide 
In  silvery  maze  his  stately  tide, 
Doubling  in  mirror  every  rank 
Of  oak  and  alder  on  his  bank  ; 
And  our  kind  guests  such  welcome  prove 
As  most  we  wish  to  those  we  love. "  ^ 
AsTiestiel,  October  13,  1811. 

The  invitation  had  been  often  repeated,  but  my  dear 
father's  increasing  infirmities  made  him  averse  to  leave 
home,  and  when,  in  compliance  with  Sir  Walter's 
urgent  request,  I  visited  Abbotsford  in  the  autumn  of 
1829,  I  went  alone.  I  was  met  at  the  outer  gate  by 
Sir  Walter,  who  welcomed  me  in  the  kindest  manner 
and  most  flattering  terms ;  indeed,  nothing  could  sur- 
pass the  courtesy  of  his  address  on  such  occasions. 
On  our  way  to  the  house  he  stopped  and  called  his  two 
little  grandchildren,  Walter  and  Charlotte  Lockhart, 

^  Lines  written  by  "Walter  Scott  while  the  carriage  was  wait- 
ing to  convey  my  father  and  me  from  Ashestiel. — S.  E.  F. 


42  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  VISITS  TO 

who  were  chasing  each  other  like  butterflies  among  the 
flowers — the  boy  was  quite  a  Cupid,  though  not  an  al 
fresco  one ;  for  he  wore  a  Tartan  cloak,  whose  sundry 
extras  fluttered  in  the  breeze  as  he  ran  to  obey  the 
summons,  and  gave  occasion  to  his  grandfather  to  pre- 
sent him  to  me  as  "Major  Waddell  -"^  the  pretty  little 
fairy-looking  girl  he  next  introduced  as  "Whipper- 
stowrie,"  and  then  (aware  of  my  love  for  fairy  lore) 
he  related  the  tale,  in  his  own  inimitable  manner, 
as  he  walked  slowly  and  stopped  frequently  in  our 
approach  to  the  house.  As  soon  as  I  could  look 
round  I  was  struck  with  the  singular  and  picturesque 
appearance  of  the  mansion  and  its  environs.  Yet  I 
must  own  there  was  more  of  strangeness  than  of  admira- 
tion in  my  feelings ;  too  many  objects  seemed  crowded 
together  in  a  small  space,  and  there  was  a  "felt  want" 
of  breadth  and  rejiose  for  the  eye.  On  entering  the 
house  I  was  however  charmed  with  the  rich  imposing 
beauty  of  the  hall,  and  admired  the  handsome  antique 
appearance  of  the  dining-room  with  its  interesting 
pictures.  After  luncheon  Sir  Walter  was  at  pains  to 
point  them  out  to  my  notice,  and  related  the  histories 
of  each  and  all ;  he  then  conducted  me  through  the 
apartments,  and  showed  me  so  much,  and  told  me  so 
many  anecdotes  illustrative  of  the  various  objects 
of  interest  and  curiosity  they  contained,  that  I  retain 
a  very  confused  and  imperfect  recollection  of  what  I 
saw  and  heard.     It  was  a  strong  proof  of  his  good- 

^   One   of  Miss   Fenier's   characters  in   lier  novel   of   The 
Inheritance. 


ASHESTIEL  AND  ABBOTSFORD.  43 

nature  that  in  showing  the  many  works  of  art  and 
reh'cs  of  antiquity  he  had  continued  to  accumulate  and 
arrange  with  so  much  taste  and  skill,  he  should  have 
been  at  such  pains  to  point  out  the  merits  and  relate 
the  history  of  most  of  them  to  one  so  incapable  of 
appreciating  their  value.  But  he  never  allowed  one 
to  feel  their  own  deficiencies,  for  he  never  appeared 
to  be  aware  of  them  himself. 

It  was  in  the  quiet  of  a  small  domestic  circle  I 
had  again  an  opportunity  of  enjoying  the  society  of 
Sir  Walter  Scott,  and  of  witnessing,  during  the  ten 
days  I  remained,  the  unbroken  serenity  of  his  temper, 
the  unflagging  cheerfulness  of  his  spirits,  and  the  un- 
ceasing courtesy  of  his  manners.  I  had  been  promised 
a  quiet  time,  else  I  should  not  have  gone  ;  and  indeed 
the  state  of  the  family  was  a  sufficient  guarantee 
against  all  festivities.  Mrs.  Lockhart  was  confined  to 
bed  by  severe  indisposition,  while  Mr.  Lockhart  was 
detained  in  London  by  the  alarming  illness  of  their 
eldest  boy,  and  both  Captain  Scott  and  his  brother  were 
absent.  The  party,  therefore,  consisted  only  of  Sir 
Walter  and  Miss  Scott,  Miss  Macdonald  Buchanan 
(who  was  almost  one  of  the  family),  and  myself. 
Being  the  only  stranger,  I  consequently  came  in  for  a 
larger  share  of  my  amiable  host's  time  and  attention 
than  I  should  otherwise  have  been  entitled  to  expect. 
Many  a  pleasant  tale  and  amusing  anecdote  I  might 
have  had  to  relate  had  I  written  down  half  of  what  I 
daily  heard ;  but  I  had  always  an  invincible  repug- 
nance to  plaj'ing  the  reporter  and  taking  down  people's 


44  r.ECOLLECTIONS  OF  VISITS  TO 

words  under  their  own  roof.  Every  day  Sir  Walter 
was  ready  by  one  o'clock  to  accompany  us  either  in 
driving  or  walking,  often  in  both,  and  in  either  there 
was  the  same  inexhaustible  flow  of  legendary  lore, 
romantic  incident,  apt  quotation,  curious  or  diverting 
story ;  and  sometimes  old  ballads  were  recited,  com- 
memorative of  some  of  the  localities  through  which 
he  passed.  Those  who  had  seen  him  only  amidst  the 
ordinary  avocations  of  life,  or  even  doing  the  honours 
of  his  own  table,  could  scarcely  have  conceived  the 
fire  and  animation  of  his  countenance  at  such  times, 
when  his  eyes  seemed  literally  to  kindle,  and  even 
(as  some  one  has  remarked)  to  change  their  colour 
and  become  a  sort  of  deep  sajiphire  blue  ;  but,  perhaps, 
from  being  close  to  him  and  in  the  ojDen  air,  I  was 
more  struck  with  this  peculiarity  than  those  whose 
better  sight  enabled  them  to  mark  his  varying  ex- 
pression at  other  times.  Yet  I  must  confess  this  was 
an  enthusiasm  I  found  as  little  infectious  as  that  of 
his  antiquarianism.  On  the  contrary,  I  often  wished 
his  noble  faculties  had  been  exercised  on  loftier  themes 
than  those  which  seemed  to  stir  his  very  soul. 

The  evenings  were  passed  either  in  Mrs.  Lock- 
hart's  bedroom  or  in  chatting  quietly  by  the  fireside 
below,  but  wherever  we  were  he  was  always  the 
same  kind,  unostentatious,  amusing,  and  amusaUe 
companion. 

The  day  before  I  was  to  depart  Sir  David  Wilkie 
and  his  sister  arrived,  and  the  Fergussons  and  one  or 
two  friends  were  invited  to  meet  him.     Mrs,  Lockhart 


ASHESTIEL  AND  ABBOTSFORD.  45 

was  so  desirous  of  nieeting  this  old  friend  and  distin- 
guished person,  that,  though  unable  to  put  her  foot 
to  the  ground,  she  caused  herself  to  be  dressed  and 
carried  down  to  the  drawing-room  while  the  company 
were  at  dinner.  Great  was  her  father's  surprise  and 
delight  on  his  entrance  to  find  her  seated  (looking 
well  and  in  high  spirits)  with  her  harp  before  her, 
ready  to  sing  his  favourite  ballads.  This  raised  his 
spirits  above  their  usual  quiet  pitch,  and  towards  the 
end  of  the  evening  he  proposed  to  wind  up  the  whole 
by  all  present  standing  in  a  circle  with  hands  joined, 
singing, 

"  Weel  may  we  a'  be  ! 
Ill  may  we  never  see  ! " 

Mrs.  Lockhart  was,  of  course,  unable  to  Join  the  festive 
band.  Sir  David  Wilkie  was  languid  and  dispirited 
from  bad  health,  and  my  feelings  were  not  such  as  to 
enable  me  to  join  in  what  seemed  to  me  little  else 
than  a  mockery  of  human  life  ;  but  rather  than  "dis- 
place the  mirth,"  I  tried,  but  could  not  long  remain 
a  passive  spectator ;  the  glee  seemed  forced  and  un-' 
natural.  It  touched  no  sympathetic  chord;  it  only 
jarred  the  feelings ;  it  was  the  last  attempt  at  gaiety 
I  witnessed  within  the  walls  of  Abbotsford. 

Although  I  had  intended  to  confine  my  slight 
reminiscence  of  Sir  Walter  Scott  to  the  time  I  had 
passed  with  him  under  his  own  roof  in  the  country, 
yet  I  cannot  refrain  from  noticing  the  great  kindness 
I  received  from  him  during  the  following  winter  in 
town. 


46  EECOLLECTIOXS  OF  VISITS  TO 

I  had,  when  at  Abbotsford  in  the  autumn,  spoken 
to  him  for  the  first  time  of  my  authorship  and  of  the 
work  on  which  I  was  then  engaged.  He  entered  into 
the  subject  with  much  warmth  and  earnestness,  shook 
his  head  at  hearing  how  matters  had  hitherto  been 
transacted,  and  said  unless  I  could  make  a  better  bar- 
gain in  this  instance  I  must  leave  to  him  the  disposal 
of  Destiny.  I  did  so,  and  from  the  much  more  liberal 
terms  he  made  with  Mr.  Cadell  I  felt,  when  too  late, 
I  had  acted  unwisely  in  not  having  sooner  consulted 
him  or  some  one  versant  in  these  matters.  But  secrecy 
at  that  time  was  all  I  was  anxious  about,  and  so  I 
paid  the  penalty  of  trusting  entirely  to  the  good  faith 
of  the  publishers. 

I  saw  Sir  Walter  frequently  during  the  winter,  and 
occasionally  dined  en  famille  with  Miss  Scott  and  him, 
or  with  one  or  two  friends,  as  I  did  not  go  into  parties, 
neither  indeed  did  he  give  any,  but  on  account  of  the 
state  of  his  affairs  lived  as  retiredly  as  he  possibly 
could. 

In  the  month  of  February  he  sustained  a  paralytic 
shock ;  as  soon  as  I  heard  of  this  I  went  to  Miss  Scott, 
from  whom  I  learned  the  particulars.  She  had  seen 
her  father  in  his  study  a  short  time  before,  apparently 
in  his  usual  health.  She  had  returned  to  the  drawing- 
room  when  Sir  Walter  opened  the  door,  came  in,  but 
stood  looking  at  her  with  a  most  peculiar  and  dread- 
ful expression  of  countenance.  It  immediately  struck 
her  he  had  come  to  communicate  some  very  distress- 
ing intelligence,  and  she  exclaimed,   "  Oh.  napa !   is 


ASHESTIEL  AND  ABBOTSFORD.  47 

Johnnie  gone?"  He  made  no  reply,  but  still  con- 
tinued standing  still  and  regarding  her  M'ith  the  same 
fearful  expression.  She  then  cried,  "Oh,  papa!  speak! 
Tell  me,  is  it  Sophia  herself  1"  Still  he  remained 
immovable.  Almost  frantic,  she  then  screamed,  "It 
is  Walter  !  it  is  Walter!  I  know  it  is."  Upon  which 
Sir  Walter  fell  senseless  on  the  floor.  Medical  assist- 
ance was  speedily  procured.  After  being  bled  he  re- 
covered his  speech,  and  his  first  words  were,  "  It  was 
very  strange  I  very  horrible."  He  afterwards  told 
her  he  had  all  at  once  felt  very  queer,  and  as  if  unable 
to  articulate ;  he  then  went  upstairs  in  hopes  of  get- 
ting rid  of  the  sensation  by  movement ;  but  it  Avould 
not  do,  he  felt  perfectly  tongue-tied,  or  rather  chained, 
till  overcome  by  witnessing  her  distress.  This  took 
place,  I  think,  on  the  15th,  and  on  the  18th  I  was 
in\'ited  to  dine  with  him,  and  found  him  without  any 
trace  of  illness,  but  as  cheerful  and  animated  as  usual. 
Not  being  very  correct  as  to  dates,  I  should  scarcely 
have  ventured  to  name  the  day  had  not  a  trifling 
circumstance  served  to  mark  it.  After  dinner  he  pro- 
posed that  instead  of  going  to  the  dra-nang-room  we 
should  remain  with  him  and  have  tea  in  the  dining- 
room.  In  the  interval  the  post  letters  were  brought, 
and  amongst  others  there  Avas  one  from  a  sister  of 
Sir  Thomas  Lawrence  (Mrs.  Bloxam),  enclosing  a 
letter  of  her  brother's,  having  heard  that  Sir  Walter 
had  expressed  a  wish  to  have  some  memoinal  of  liim, 
"rather  of  his  pencil  than  his  pen,"  said  he,  as  he 
handed  the  letter  to  me,  who,  as  a  collector  of  auto- 


48  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  VISITS  TO 

graphs,  would  probably  value  them  more  than  he  did  j 
and  on  referring  to  Mrs.  Bloxam's  letter  I  find  the 
Edinburgh  post-mark  February  the  18th. 

I  received  repeated  invitations  to  Abbotsford,  and 
had  fixed  to  go  on  the  17th  of  April,  when,  the  day 
before,  Mrs.  Skene  called  upon  me  with  the  sad  tid- 
ings of  another  paralytic  stroke,  which  not  only  put 
a  stop  to  my  visit  for  the  present,  but  rendered  it 
very  doubtful  whether  I  should  ever  see  him  again. 
But  the  worst  fears  of  his  friends  were  not  yet  to  be 
realised. 

Early  in  May  the  invitation  was  renewed  in  a  note 
from  himself,  which  I  availed  myself  of,  too  well  assured 
it  was  a  privilege  I  should  enjoy  for  the  last  time. 
On  reaching  Abbotsford  I  found  some  morning  visitors 
(Mr.  and  Mrs.  James,  etc.)  in  the  drawing-room,  but 
as  soon  as  they  were  gone  Sir  Walter  sent  for  me  to 
his  study.  I  found  him  seated  in  his  armchair,  but 
with  his  habitual  politeness  he  insisted  upon  rising 
to  receive  me,  though  he  did  so  with  such  extreme 
difficulty  I  would  gladly  have  dispensed  with  this 
mark  of  courtesy.  His  welcome  was  not  less  cordial 
than  usual,  but  he  spoke  in  a  slow  and  somewhat  in- 
distinct manner,  and  as  I  sat  close  by  him  I  could 
perceive  but  too  plainly  the  change  which  had  taken 
place  since  we  last  met.  His  figure  was  unwieldy, 
not  so  much  from  increased  bulk  as  from  diminished 
life  and  energy ;  his  face  was  swollen  and  puffy,  his 
complexion  mottled  and  discoloured,  his  eyes  heavy 
and  dim ;  his  head  had  been  shaved,  and  he  wore  a 


ASHESTIEL  AND  ABBOTSFORD.  49 

small  black  silk  cap,  which  was  extremely  imbecom- 
ing.  Altogether,  the  change  was  no  less  striking  than 
painful  to  behold.  The  impression,  however,  soon 
wore  off  (on  finding,  as  I  believed),  that  his  mind  was 
unimpaired  and  his  warm  kindly  feelings  unchanged. 
There  was  no  company,  and  the  dinner  party  con- 
sisted of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lockhart,  Miss  Scott,  and  my 
self.  Sir  Walter  did  not  join  us  till  the  dessert, 
when  he  entered,  assisted  by  his  servant,  and  took  his 
place  at  the  foot  of  the  table.  His  grandchildren 
were  then  brought  in,  and  his  favourite,  Johnnie 
Lockhart,  Avas  seated  by  his  side.  I  must  have  forgot 
most  things  before  I  can  cease  to  recall  that  most 
striking  and  impressive  spectacle,  each  day  repeated, 
as  it  seemed,  with  deepening  gloom.  The  first  tran- 
sient glow  of  cheerfulness  which  had  welcomed  my 
arrival  had  passed  away,  and  been  succeeded  by  an 
air  of  languor  and  dejection  which  sank  to  deepest 
sadness  when  his  eye  rested  for  a  moment  on  his  once 
darling  grandson,  the  child  of  so  much  pride  and 
promise,  now,  alas !  hoAV  changed.  It  was  most 
touching  to  look  upon  one  whose  morning  of  life  had 
been  so  bright  and  beautiful  and,  still  in  the  sunny 
days  of  childhood,  transformed  into  an  image  of  de- 
crepitude and  decay.  The  fair  blooming  cheek  and 
finely  chiselled  features  were  now  shrunk  and  stiflened 
into  the  wan  and  rigid  inflexibility  of  old  age ;  while 
the  black  bandages  which  swathed  the  little  pale  sad 
countenance,  gave  additional  gloom  and  harshness  to 
the  pi'ofound  melancholy  which  clouded  its  most  iu- 
VOL.  I.  E  M 


50  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  VISITS  TO 

tellectual  expression.  Disease  and  death  were  stamped 
upon  the  grandsire  and  the  boy  as  they  sat  side  by  side 
with  averted  eyes,  each  as  if  in  the  bitterness  of  his 
own  heart  refusing  to  comfort  or  be  comforted.  The 
two  who  had  been  wont  to  regard  each  other  so  fondly 
and  so  proudly,  now  seemed  averse  to  hold  communion 
together,  while  their  appearance  and  style  of  dress, 
the  black  cap  of  the  one  and  the  black  bandages  of 
the  other,  denoted  a  sympathy  in  suffering  if  in 
nothing  else.  The  picture  would  have  been  a  most 
affecting  and  impressive  one  viewed  under  any  cir- 
cumstances, but  Avas  rendered  doubly  so  by  the  con- 
trast which  everywhere  presented  itself. 

The  month  was  May,  but  the  weather  had  all  the 
warmth  of  summer  with  the  freshness  and  sweetness 
of  spring.  The  windows  of  the  dining-room  were 
open  to  admit  the  soft  balmy  air  which  "came  and 
went  like  the  warbling  of  music,"  but  whose  reviving 
influence  seemed  unfelt  by  the  sufferers.  The  trees, 
and  shrubs,  and  flowers  were  putting  forth  their  tender 
leaves  and  fragrant  blossoms  as  if  to  charm  his  senses 
who  used  to  watch  their  progress  with  almost  paternal 
interest,  and  the  little  birds  Avere  singing  in  sweet 
chorus  as  if  to  cheer  him  who  was  wont  to  listen  to 
their  evening  song  with  such  placid  delight.  All 
around  were  the  dear  familiar  objects  which  had 
hitherto  ministered  to  his  enjoyment,  but  now,  alas ! 
miserable  comforters  were  they  all !  It  was  impossible 
to  look  upon  such  a  picture  without  beholding  in  it 
the  realisation  of  those  solemn  and  affecting  passages 


ASHESTIEL  AND  ABBOTSFORD.  51 

of  Holy  Writ  which  speak  to  us  of  the  ephemeral 
nature  of  all  earthly  pleasures  and  of  the  mournful 
insignificance  of  human  life,  even  in  its  most  palmy 
state,  when  its  views  and  actions,  its  hopes  and  desires, 
are  confined  to  this  sublunary  sphere  :  "  Whence  then 
Cometh  any  wisdom,  and  Avhere  is  the  place  of  under- 
standing?" "Thus  saith  the  Lord,  Let  not  the  wise 
man  glory  in  his  wisdom,  neither  let  the  mighty  man 
glory  in  his  might ;  let  not  the  rich  man  glory  in  his 
riches :  but  let  him  that  glorieth  glory  in  this,  that 
he  understandeth  and  knoweth  me,  that  I  am  the 
Lord." 


".  .  .  .  Cato  did  well  reprove  Alus  Albinus  for  writing  the  Roman 
story  in  the  Greek  tongue,  of  which  he  had  but  imperfect  knowledge; 
and  himself  was  put  to  make  his  apolog_v  for  so  doing:  Cato  told 
hhn  that  he  was  mightily  in  love  with  a  fault  that  he  had  rather  beg 
a  pardon  than  be  innocent.    Who  forced  him  to  need  the  pardon  ?  " 

Jeremy  Taylok. 


"Life  consists  not  of  a  series  of  illustrious  actions,  the  greater 
part  of  our  time  passes  in  compliance  with  necessities  —  in  the  per- 
formance of  daih'  duties  —  in  the  removal  of  small  inconveniences  — 
in  the  procurement  of  petty  jileasures;  and  we  are  well  or  ill  at  ease, 
as  the  main  stream  of  life  glides  on  smoothly,  or  is  ruffled  by  small 
and  frequent  interruption."  —  Johnson. 


MAERIAGE. 


CHAPTEE   I. 

''Love! — A  word  by  superstition  tliou(,fht  a  God  ;  by  use 
turned  to  an  humour  ;  by  sell-will  made  a  flattering  madness." 

Alexander  and  Campaspe. 

"Come  hither,  child,"  said  the  old  Earl  of  Courtland 
to  his  daughter,  as,  in  obedience  to  his  summons,  she 
entered  his  study ;  "  come  hither,  I  say ;  I  wish  to 
have  some  serious  conversation  \\  .di  you  :  so  dismiss 
your  dogs,  shut  the  door,  and  sit  down  here." 

Lady  Juliana  rang  for  the  footman  to  take  Venus  ; 
bade  Pluto  be  quiet,  like  a  darling,  under  the  sofa ; 
and,  taking  Cupid  in  her  arms,  assured  his  Lordship 
he  need  fear  no  disturbance  from  the  sweet  creatures, 
and  that  she  would  be  all  attention  to  his  commands 
— kissing  her  cherished  pug  as  she  spoke. 

"You  are  now,  I  think,  seventeen,  Juliana,"  said 
his  Lordship  in  a  solemn  important  tone. 

"And  a  half,  papa." 

"It  is  therefore  time  you  should  be  thinking  of 
establishing  yourself  in  the  Avorld.  Have  you  ever 
turned  your  thoughts  that  way  1 " 


54  MARRIAGE. 

Lady  Juliana  cast  down  her  beautiful  eyes,  and 
was  silent. 

"As  I  can  give  you  no  fortune,"  continued  the 
Earl,  swelling  with  ill-suppressed  importance,  as  he 
proceeded,  "you  have  perhaps  no  great  pretensions 
to  a  very  brilliant  estabhshment." 

"Oh!  none  in  the  world,  papa,"  eagerly  inter- 
rupted Lady  Juliana ;  "a  mere  competence  with  the 
man  of  my  heart." 

"  The  man  of  a  fiddlestick  ! "  exclaimed  Lord 
Courtland  in  a  fury ;  "  what  the  devil  have  you  to 
do  with  a  heart,  I  should  like  to  know  1  There's  no 
talking  to  a  young  woman  now  about  marriage,  but 
she  is  all  in  a  blaze  about  hearts,  and  darts,  and — 
and — But  hark  ye,  child,  I'll  suffer  no  daughter  of 
mine  to  play  the  fool  with  her  heart,  indeed !  She 
shall  marry  for  the  purpose  for  Avhich  matrimony  was 
ordained  amongst  people  of  birth — that  is,  for  the 
aggrandisement  of  her  family,  the  extending  of  their 
political  influence — for  becoming,  in  short,  the  depo- 
sitory of  their  mutual  interest.  These  are  the  only 
purposes  for  which  persons  of  rank  ever  think  of 
marriage.  And  pray,  Avhat  has  your  heart  to  say  to 
that?" 

"  Nothing,  papa,"  replied  Lady  Juliana  in  a  faint 
dejected  tone  of  voice.  "  Have  done,  Cupid  ! "  addres- 
sing her  favourite,  who  was  amusing  himself  in  pulling 
and  tearing  the  beautiful  lace  veil  that  partly  shaded 
the  head  of  his  fair  mistress. 

*'  I  thought  not,"  resumed  the  Earl  in  a  triumphant 


MAERIAGE.  55 

tone — "I  thought  not,  indeed."  And  as  this  victory- 
over  his  daughter  put  him  in  unusual  good  humour, 
he  condescended  to  sport  a  Httle  with  her  curiosity. 

"  And  pray,  can  this  wonderful  wise  heart  of  yours 
inform  you  who  it  is  you  are  going  to  obtain  for  a 
husband  1 " 

Had  Lady  Juliana  dared  to  utter  the  wishes  of 
that  heart  she  would  have  been  at  no  loss  for  a  reply ; 
but  she  saw  the  necessity  of  dissimulation ;  and  after 
naming  such  of  her  admirers  as  were  most  indifferent 
to  her,  she  declared  herseK  quite  at  a  loss,  and  begged 
her  father  to  put  an  end  to  her  suspense. 

"Now,  what   would   you   think  of   the   Duke  of 

L ? "  asked  the  Earl  in  a  voice  of  half -smothered 

exultation  and  delight. 

"The  Duke  of  L !"  repeated  Lady  Juliana, 

with  a  scream  of  horror  and  surprise ;  "  surely,  papa, 
you  cannot  be  serious  1  Why,  he's  red-haired  and 
squints,  and  he's  as  old  as  you." 

"  If  he  Avere  as  old  as  the  devil,  and  as  ugly  too," 
interrupted  the  enraged  Earl,  "he  should  be  your 
husband :  and  may  I  perish  if  you  shall  have  any 
other  ! " 

The  youthful  beauty  burst  into  tears,  while  her 
father  traversed  the  apartment  with  an  inflamed  and 
wrathful  visage. 

"  If  it  had  been  anybody  but  that  odious  Duke," 
sobbed  the  lovely  Juliana. 

"  If  it  had  been  anybody  but  that  odious  Duke  ! " 
repeated  the  Earl,  mimicking  her,  "  they  should  not 


66  MARRIAGE. 

have  had  you.  It  has  been  my  sole  study,  ever  since 
I  saw  your  brother  settled,  to  bring  about  this  alliance; 
and,  when  this  is  accomplished,  my  utmost  ambition 
will  be  satisfied.  So  no  more  whining — the  affair  is 
settled ;  and  all  that  remains  for  you  to  do  is  to  study 
to  make  yourself  agreeable  to  his  Grace,  and  to  sign 
the  settlements.  No  such  mighty  sacrifice,  methinks, 
when  repaid  with  a  ducal  coronet,  the  most  splendid 
jewels,  the  finest  equipages,  and  the  largest  jointure 
of  any  woman  in  England." 

Lady  Juliana  raised  her  head,  and  wiped  her  eyes. 
Lord  Courtland  perceived  the  eff"ect  his  eloquence  had 
produced  upon  the  childish  fancy  of  his  daughter,  and 
continued  to  expatiate  upon  the  splendid  joys  that 
awaited  her  in  a  union  with  a  nobleman  of  the 
Duke's  rank  and  fortune  ;  till  at  length,  dazzled,  if  not 
convinced,  she  declared  herself  "  satisfied  that  it  was 
her  duty  to  marry  whoever  papa  pleased ;  but — "  and 
a  sigh  escaped  her  as  she  contrasted  her  noble  suitor 
with  her  handsome  lover  :  "  but  if  I  should  marry  him, 
papa,  I  am  sure  I  shall  never  be  able  to  love  him." 

The  Earl  smiled  at  her  childish  simphcity  as  he 
assured  her  that  was  not  at  all  necessary ;  that  love 
was  now  entirely  confined  to  the  canaille  ;  that  it  was 
very  well  for  ploughmen  and  dairymaids  to  marry 
for  love ;  but  for  a  young  woman  of  rank  to  think  of 
such  a  thing  was  plebeian  in  the  extreme  ! 

Lady  Juliana  did  not  entirely  subscribe  to  the 
arguments  of  her  father;  but  the  gay  and  glorious 
vision  that  floated  in  her  brain  stifled  for  a  while  the 


MARRIAGE.  57 

pleadings  of  her  heart ;  and  with  a  sparkling  eye  and 
an  elastic  step  she  hastened  to  prepare  for  the  recep- 
tion of  the  Duke. 

For  a  few  weeks  the  delusion  lasted.  Lady  J-iliana 
was  flattered  with  the  homage  she  received  as  a  future 
Duchess ;  she  was  delighted  with  the  ^clat  that  attended 
her,  and  charmed  with  the  daily  presents  showered 
upon  her  by  her  noble  suitor. 

"Well,  really,  Favolle,"  said  she  to  her  maid,  one 
daj^,  as  she  clasped  on  her  beautiful  arm  a  resplendent 
bracelet,  "it  must  be  owned  the  Duke  has  a  most 
exquisite  taste  in  trinkets  ;  don't  you  think  so  1  And, 
do  you  know,  I  don't  think  him  so  very — very  ugly. 
When  we  are  married  I  mean  to  make  him  get  a 
Brutus,  cork  his  eyebrows,  and  have  a  set  of  teeth." 
But  just  then  the  smiling  eyes,  curling  hair,  and  finely 
formed  person  of  a  certain  captivating  Scotsman  rose 
to  view  in  her  mind's  eye ;  and,  with  a  peevish 
"  pshaw  ! "  she  threw  the  bauble  aside. 

Educated  for  the  sole  purpose  of  forming  a  brilliant 
establishment,  of  catching  the  eye,  and  captivating 
the  senses,  the  cultivation  of  her  mind  or  the  correc- 
tion of  her  temper  had  formed  no  part  of  the  system 
by  which  that  aim  was  to  be  accomplished.  Under 
the  auspices  of  a  fashionable  mother  and  an  obsequious 
governess  the  froward  petulance  of  childhood,  fostered 
and  strengthened  by  indulgence  and  submission,  had 
gradually  ripened  into  that  selfishness  and  caprice 
which  now,  in  youth,  formed  the  prominent  features 
of  her  character.     The  Earl  was  too  much  engrossed 


58  MAERIAGE. 

by  affairs  of  importance  to  pay  much  attention  to  any- 
thing so  perfectly  insignificant  as  the  mind  of  his 
daughter.  Her  person  he  had  predetermined  should 
be  entirely  at  his  disposal,  and  therefore  contemplated 
with  delight  the  uncommon  beauty  which  already  dis- 
tinguished it ;  not  with  the  fond  partiality  of  parental 
love,  but  with  the  heartless  satisfaction  of  a  crafty 
politician. 

The  mind  of  Lady  Juliana  was  consequently  the 
sport  of  every  passion  that  by  turns  assailed  it.  Now 
swayed  by  ambition,  and  now  softened  by  love,  the 
struggle  was  violent,  but  it  was  short.  A  few  days 
before  the  one  which  was  to  seal  her  fate  she  granted 
an  interview  to  her  lover,  who,  young,  thoughtless, 
and  enamoured  as  herself,  easily  succeeded  in  persuad- 
ing her  to  elope  with  him  to  Scotland.  There,  at  the 
altar  of  Vulcan,  the  beautiful  daughter  of  the  Earl  of 
Courtland  gave  her  hand  to  her  handsome  but  penni- 
less lover ;  and  there  vowed  to  immolate  every  ambi- 
tious desire,  every  sentiment  of  vanity  and  high-born 
pride.  Yet  a  sigh  arose  as  she  looked  on  the  filthy 
hut,  sooty  priest,  and  ragged  witnesses ;  and  thought 
of  the  special  license,  splendid  saloon,  and  bridal 
pomp  that  would  have  attended  her  union  with  the 
Duke.  But  the  rapturous  expressions  which  burst 
from  the  impassioned  Douglas  made  her  forget  the 
gaudy  pleasures  of  pomp  and  fashion.  Amid  the 
sylvan  scenes  of  the  neighbouring  lakes  the  lovers 
sought  a  shelter;  and,  mutually  charmed  with  each 
other,  time  flew  for  a  while  on  downy  pinions. 


MARRIAGE.  59 

At  the  end  of  two  months,  however,  the  enamoured 
husband  began  to  suspect  that  the  lips  of  his  "  angel 
Julia "  could  utter  very  silly  things ;  while  the  fond 
bride,  on  her  part,  discovered  that  though  her  "adored 
Henry's  "  figure  was  symmetry  itself,  yet  it  certainly 
was  deficient  in  a  certain  air — a  je  ne  sgais  qiioi — that 
marks  the  man  of  fashion, 

"  How  I  wish  I  had  my  pretty  Cupid  here,"  said 
her  Ladyship,  with  a  sigh,  one  day  as  she  lolled  on 
a  sofa :  "  he  had  so  many  pretty  tricks,  he  would 
have  helped  to  amuse  us,  and  make  the  time  pass ; 
for  really  this  place  grows  very  stupid  and  tiresome ; 
don't  you  think  so,  love  ?" 

"Most  confoundedly  so,  my  darling,"  replied  her 
husband,  yawning  sympathetically  as  he  spoke. 

"Then  suppose  I  make  one  more  attempt  to  soften 
papa,  and  be  received  into  favour  again?" 

"With  all  my  heart." 

"  Shall  I  say  I'm  very  sorry  for  what  I  have  done?" 
asked  her  Ladyship,  "with  a  sigh.  "  You  know  I  did 
not  say  that  in  my  first  letter." 

"Ay,  do;  and,  if  it  will  serve  any  purpose,  you 
may  say  that  I  am  no  less  so." 

In  a  few  days  the  letter  was  retui-ned,  in  a  blank 
cover ;  and,  by  the  same  post,  Douglas  saw  himself 
superseded  in  the  Gazette,  being  absent  without  leave  ! 

There  now  remained  but  one  course  to  pursue  ;  and 
that  was  to  seek  refuge  at  his  father's,  in  the  High- 
lands of  Scotland.  At  the  first  mention  of  it  Lady 
Juliana  was  transported  with  joy,  and  begged  that  a 


60  MARRIAGE. 

letter  might  be  instantly  despatched,  containing  the 
offer  of  a  visit :  she  had  heard  the  Duchess  of  M. 
declare  nothing  could  be  so  delightful  as  the  style  of 
living  in  Scotland  :  the  people  were  so  fz'ank  and  gay, 
and  the  manners  so  easy  and  engaging — oh  !  it  was 
delightful !  And  then  Lady  Jane  G.  and  Lady  Mary 
L.,  and  a  thousand  other  lords  and  ladies  she  knew, 
were  all  so  charmed  with  the  country,  and  all  so  sorry 
to  leave  it.  Then  dear  Henry's  family  must  be  so 
charming :  an  old  castle,  too,  was  her  delight ;  she 
would  feel  quite  at  home  while  wandering  through  its 
long  galleries ;  and  she  quite  loved  old  pictures,  and 
armour,  and  tapestry  ;  and  then  her  thoughts  reverted 
to  her  father's  magnificent  mansion  in  D shire. 

At  length  an  answer  arrived,  containing  a  cordial 
invitation  from  the  old  Laird  to  spend  the  winter 
with  them  at  Glenfern  Castle. 

All  impatience  to  quit  the  scenes  of  their  short- 
lived felicity,  they  bade  a  hasty  adieu  to  the  now 
fading  beauties  of  Windermere ;  and,  full  of  hope  and 
expectation,  eagerly  turned  towards  the  bleak  hills 
of  Scotland.  They  stopped  for  a  short  time  at  Edin- 
burgh, to  provide  themselves  with  a  carriage,  and 
some  other  necessaries.  There,  too,  she  fortunately 
met  with  an  English  Abigail  and  footman,  who,  for 
double  wages,  were  prevailed  upon  to  attend  her  to 
the  Highlands  ;  which,  with  the  addition  of  two  dogs, 
a  tame  squirrel,  and  mackaw,  completed  the  establish- 
ment. 


CHAPTER  11. 

'*  What  transport  to  retrace  our  earl}'  plays, 
Our  easy  bliss,  when  each  thing  joy  supplied  ; 
Tlie  woods,  the  mountains,  and  the  warbling  maze 
Of  the  wild  brooks."  Thomson. 

Many  were  the  drear_^  muirs  and  rugged  mountains 
her  Ladyship  had  to  encounter  in  her  progress  to 
Glenfern  Castle ;  and,  but  for  the  hope  of  the  new- 
world  that  awaited  her  beyond  those  formidable 
barriers,  her  delicate  frame  and  still  more  sensitive 
feelings  must  have  sunk  beneath  the  horrors  of  such 
a  journey.  But  she  remembered  the  Duchess  had 
said  the  inns  and  roads  were  execrable ;  and  the  face 
of  the  countrj^,  as  -well  as  the  lower  orders  of  people, 
frightful ;  but  Avhat  signified  those  things  1  There 
were  balls,  and  sailing  parties,  and  rowing  matches, 
and  shooting  parties,  and  fishing  parties,  and  parties 
of  every  description ;  and  the  certainty  of  being  re- 
compensed by  the  festivities  of  Glenfern  Castle, 
reconciled  her  to  the  ruggedness  of  the  approach. 

Douglas  had  left  his  paternal  home  and  native 
hills  when  only  eight  years  of  age.  A  rich  relation 
of  his  mother's  happening  to  visit  them  at  that  time. 


62  MARRIAGE. 

took  a  fancy  to  the  boy ;  and,  under  promise  of  making 
him  his  heir,  had  prevailed  on  his  parents  to  part  with 
him.  At  a  proper  age  he  was  placed  in  the  Guards, 
and  had  continued  to  maintain  himself  in  the  favour 
of  his  benefactor  until  his  imprudent  marriage,  which 
had  irritated  this  old  bachelor  so  much  that  he 
instantl}'  disinherited  him,  and  refused  to  listen  to 
any  terms  of  reconciliation.  The  impressions  which 
the  scenes  of  his  infancy  had  left  upon  the  mind  of 
the  young  Scotsman,  it  may  easily  be  supposed,  were 
of  a  pleasing  description.  He  expatiated  to  his 
Juliana  on  the  wild  but  august  scenery  that  sur- 
rounded his  father's  castle,  a./d  associated  Avith  the 
idea  the  boyish  exploits,  which  though  faintly  re- 
membered, still  served  to  endear  them  to  his  heart. 
He  spoke  of  the  time  when  he  used  to  make  one  of 
a  numerous  party  on  the  lake,  and,  when  tired  of 
sailing  on  its  glassy  surface  to  the  sound  of  soft 
music,  they  would  land  at  some  lovely  spot;  and, 
after  partaking  of  their  banquet  beneath  a  spreading 
tree,  conclude  the  day  by  a  dance  on  the  grass. 

Lady  Juliana  would  exclaim,  "  How  delightful !  I 
doat  upon  picnics  and  dancing  !  —  hpropos,  Henry, 
there  will  surely  be  a  ball  to  welcome  our  arrival  1 " 

The  conversation  w^as  interrupted  ;  for  just  at  that 
moment  they  had  gained  the  summit  of  a  very  high 
hill,  and  the  post-boy,  stopping  to  give  his  horses 
breath,  turned  round  to  the  carriage,  pointing  at  the 
same  time,  Avith  a  significant  gesture,  to  a  tall  thin 
gray  house,  something  resembling  a  tower,  that  stood 


MARWAGE.  63 

in  the  vale  beneath.  A  small  sullen-looking  lake  was 
in  front,  on  whose  banks  grew  neither  tree  nor  shrub. 
Behind  rose  a  chain  of  rugged  cloud-capped  hills,  on 
the  dechAdties  of  which  were  some  faint  attempts 
at  young  plantations ;  and  the  only  level  ground 
consisted  of  a  few  dingy  turnip  fields,  enclosed  with 
stone  walls,  or  dykes,  as  the  post-boy  called  them. 
It  was  now  November;  the  day  was  raw  and  cold  ;  and 
a  thick  drizzhng  rain  was  beginning  to  fall  A  dreary 
stillness  reigned  all  around,  broken  only  at  intervals 
by  the  screams  of  the  sea-fowl  that  hovered  over  the 
lake,  on  whose  dark  and  troubled  waters  was  dimly 
descried  a  little  boat,  plied  by  one  solitary  being. 

"  What  a  scene ! "  at  length  Lady  Juliana  ex- 
claimed, shuddering  as  she  spoke.  "  Good  God,  what 
a  scene  !  How  I  pity  the  unhappy  wretches  Avho  are 
doomed  to  dwell  in  such  a  place  !  and  yonder  hideous 
grim  house — it  makes  me  sick  to  look  at  it.  For 
Heaven's  sake,  bid  him  drive  on."  Another  signifi- 
cant look  from  the  driver  made  the  colour  mount  to 
Douglas's  cheek,  as  he  stammered  out,  "  Surely  it  can't 
be ;  yet  somehow  I  don't  know.  Pray,  my  lad," 
letting  down  one  of  the  glasses,  and  addressing  the 
post-boy,  "  what  is  the  name  of  that  house  1 " 

"  Hoose  ! "  repeated  the  driver ;  "  ca'  ye  thon  a 
hoose?    Thon's  gude  Gleufern  Castle." 

Lady  Juliana,  not  understanding  a  word  he  said,  sat 
silently  wondering  at  her  husband's  curiosity  respect- 
ing such  a  wretched-looking  place. 

*'  Impossible !    you   must    be   mistaken,    my  lad : 


64  MARRIAGE. 

why,  what's  become  of  all  the  fine  wood  that  used  to 
surround  it  1 " 

"Gin  you  mean  a  wheen  auld  firs,  there's  some 
o'  them  to  the  fore  yet,"  pointing  to  two  or  three  tall, 
bare,  scathed  Scotch  firs,  that  scarcely  bent  their 
stubborn  heads  to  the  wind,  that  now  began  to  howl 
around  them. 

"  I  insist  upon  it  that  you  are  mistaken  ;  you  must 
have  wandered  from  the  right  road,"  cried  the  now 
alarmed  Douglas  in  a  loud  voice,  which  vainly 
attempted  to  conceal  his  agitation. 

"We'll  shune  see  that,"  replied  the  phlegmatic 
Scot,  who,  having  rested  his  horses  and  affixed  a 
drag  to  the  wheel,  was  about  to  proceed,  when  Lady 
Juliana,  who  now  began  to  have  some  vague  suspicion 
of  the  truth,  called  to  him  to  stop,  and,  almost  breath- 
less with  alarm,  inquired  of  her  husband  the  meaning 
of  what  had  passed. 

He  tried  to  force  a  smile,  as  he  said,  "It  seems 
our  journey  is  nearly  ended ;  that  fellow  persists  in 
asserting  that  that  is  Glenfern,  though  I  can  scarcely 
think  it.  If  it  is,  it  is  strangely  altered  since  I  left  it 
twelve  years  ago." 

For  a  moment  Lady  Juliana  was  too  much  alarmed 
to  make  a  reply ;  pale  and  speechless,  she  sank  back 
in  the  carriage ;  but  the  motion  of  it,  as  it  began  to 
proceed,  roused  her  to  a  sense  of  her  situation,  and 
she  burst  into  tears  and  exclamations. 

The  driver,  who  attributed  it  all  to  fears  at  de- 
scending the  hill,  assured  her  she  need  na  be  the  least 


MARRIAGE.  65 

feared,  for  there  were  na  twa  cannier  beasts  atween 
that  and  Johnny  Groat's  hoose ;  and  that  they  wad 
ha'e  her  at  the  castle  door  in  a  crack,  gin  they  were 
ance  down  the  brae." 

Douglas's  attempts  to  soothe  his  high-bom  bride 
were  not  more  successful  than  those  of  the  driver  :  in 
vain  he  made  use  of  every  endearing  epithet  and 
tender  expression,  and  recalled  the  time  when  she 
used  to  declare  that  she  could  dwell  with  him  in  a 
desert;  her  only  rephes  were  bitter  reproaches  and 
upbraidings  for  his  treachery  and  deceit,  mingled  with 
floods  of  tears,  and  interrupted  by  hysterical  sobs. 
Provoked  at  her  folly,  yet  softened  by  her  extreme 
distress,  Douglas  was  in  the  utmost  state  of  per- 
plexity— now  ready  to  give  way  to  a  paroxysm  of 
rage ;  then  yielding  to  the  natural  goodness  of  his 
heart,  he  sought  to  soothe  her  into  composure ;  and, 
at  length,  with  much  difficulty  succeeded  in  changing 
her  passionate  indignation  into  silent  dejection. 

That  no  fresh  objects  of  horror  or  disgust  might 
appear  to  disturb  this  calm,  the  blinds  were  pulled 
down,  and  in  this  state  they  reached  Glenfern  Castle. 
But  there  the  friendly  veil  was  necessarily  withdrawn, 
and  the  first  object  that  presented  itself  to  the  high- 
bred Englishwoman  was  an  old  man  clad  in  a  short 
tartan  coat  and  striped  woollen  night-cap,  with  blear 
eyes  and  shaking  hands,  who  vainly  strove  to  open 
the  carriage  door. 

Douglas  soon  extricated  himself,  and  assisted  his 
lady  to  alight ;  then  accosting  the  venerable  domes- 

VOL   I.  F  M. 


66  MAERIAGE. 

tic  as  "Old  Donald,"   asked   him  if  he   recollected 
him. 

"Weel  that,  weel  that,  Maister  Hairy,  and  ye 're 
welcome  hame;  and  ye  tu,  bonny  sir"^  (addressing 
Lady  Juliana,  who  was  calling  to  her  footman  to 
follow  her  with  the  mackaw) ;  then,  tottering  before 
them,  he  led  the  way,  while  her  Ladyship  followed, 
leaning  on  her  husband,  her  squirrel  on  her  other 
arm,  preceded  by  her  dogs,  barking  with  aU  their 
might,  and  attended  by  the  mackaw,  screaming  with 
all  his  strength  ;  and  in  this  state  was  the  Lady  Juliana 
ushered  into  the  drawing-room  of  Glenfern  Castle ! 

^  The  Highlanders  use  this  term  of  respect  iudifferently  to 
both  sexes. 


>l 


1 


CHAPTER  IIL 

"What  caD  be  worse, 
Than  to  dwell  here  ?" 

Paradise  Lost. 

It  was  a  long,  na^^o^y,  low-roofed  room,  Avith  a  number 
of  small  windows,  that  admitted  feeble  lights  in  every 
possible  direction.  The  scanty  furniture  bore  every 
appearance  of  having  been  constructed  at  the  same 
time  as  the  edifice ;  and  the  friendship  thus  early 
formed  still  seemed  to  subsist,  as  the  high -backed 
worked  chairs  adhered  most  pertinaciously  to  the  gray 
walls,  on  which  hung,  in  narrow  black  frames,  some 
of  the  venerable  ancestors  of  the  Douglas  family.  A 
fire,  which  appeared  to  have  been  newly  kindled,  was 
beginning  to  burn,  but,  previous  to  showing  itself  in 
flame,  had  chosen  to  vent  itself  in  smoke,  with  which 
the  room  was  completely  filled,  and  the  open  windows 
seemed  to  produce  no  other  efi"ect  than  that  of  admit- 
ting the  rain  and  wind. 

At  the  entrance  of  the  strangers  a  flock  of  females 
rushed  forward  to  meet  them.  Douglas  good  humour- 
edly  submitted  to  be  hugged  by  three  long-chinned 
spinsters,  whom  he  recognised  as  his  aunts ;  and 
warmly  saluted  five  awkward  purple  girls  he  guessed 


68  MARRIAGE. 

to  be  his  sisters ;  while  Lady  Juliana  stood  the  image 
of  despair,  and,  scarcely  conscious,  admitted  in  silence 
the  civilities  of  her  new  relations ;  till,  at  length,  sink- 
ing into  a  chair,  she  endeavoured  to  conceal  her 
agitation  by  calling  to  the  dogs,  and  caressing  her 
mackaw. 

The  Laird,  who  had  been  hastily  summoned  from 
his  farming  operations,  now  entered.  He  was  a  good- 
looking  old  man,  with  something  the  air  of  a  gentle- 
man, in  spite  of  the  inelegance  of  his  dress,  liis  rough 
manner,  and  provincial  accent.  After  warmly  welcom- 
ing his  son,  he  advanced  to  his  beautiful  daughter-in- 
law,  and,  taking  her  in  his  arms,  bestowed  a  loud  and 
hearty  kiss  on  each  cheek ;  then,  observing  the  pale- 
ness of  her  complexion,  and  the  tears  that  swam  in 
her  eyes,  "  What !  not  frightened  for  our  Hieland 
hills,  my  leddy  1  Come,  cheer  up^ — trust  me,  ye'U  find 
as  warm  hearts  among  them  as  ony  ye  ha'e  left  in  your 
fine  English  policies  " — shaking  her  delicate  fingers  in 
his  hard  muscular  gripe  as  he  spoke. 

The  tears,  which  had  v/ith  difficulty  been  hitherto 
suppressed,  now  burst  in  torrents  from  the  eyes  of 
the  high-bred  beauty,  as  she  leant  her  cheek  against 
the  back  of  a  chair,  and  gave  way  to  the  anguish 
which  mocked  control 

To  the  loud,  anxious  inquiries,  and  oppressive 
kindness  of  her  homely  relatives,  she  made  no  reply ; 
but,  stretching  out  her  hands  to  her  husband,  sobbed, 
*'  Take,  oh,  take  me  from  this  place  ! " 

Mortified,  ashamed,  and  provoked,  at  a  behaAaour 


MARKIAGE.  69 

SO  childish  and  absurd,  Douglas  could  only  stammer 
out  something  about  Lady  Juliana  having  been 
frightened  and  fatigued ;  and,  requesting  to  be  shown 
to  their  apartment,  he  supported  her  almost  lifeless 
to  it,  while  his  aunts  followed,  all  three  prescribing 
different  remedies  in  a  breath. 

"For  heaven's  sake,  take  them  from  me  !"  faintly 
articulated  Lady  Juliana,  as  she  shrank  from  the 
many  hands  that  were  alternately  appKed  to  her  pulse 
and  forehead. 

After  repeated  entreaties  and  plausible  excuses 
from  Douglas,  his  aunts  at  length  consented  to  with- 
draw, and  he  then  exerted  all  the  rhetoric  he  was 
master  of  to  reconcile  his  bride  to  the  situation  love 
and  necessity  had  thrown  her  into.  But  in  vain  he 
employed  reasoning,  caresses,  and  threats;  the  only 
answers  he  could  extort  were  tears  and  entreaties  to 
be  taken  from  a  place  where  she  declared  she  felt  it 
impossible  to  exist. 

"If  you  wish  my  death,  Harry,"  said  she,  in  a 
voice  almost  inarticulate  from  excess  of  w-eeping, 
"  oh !  kill  me  quickly,  and  do  not  leave  me  to 
linger  out  my  days,  and  perish  at  last  with  misery 
here." 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  tell  me  what  j'ou  would  have 
me  do,"  said  her  husband,  softened  to  pity  by  her 
extreme  distress,  "and  I  swear  that  in  everything 
possible  I  will  comply  with  your  w'ishes." 

"  Oh,  fly  then,  stop  the  horses,  and  let  us  return 
immediately.     Do  run,  dearest  Harry,  or  they  will  be 


70  MAKRIAGE. 

gone ;  and  we  shall  never  get  away  from  this  odious 
place." 

"  Where  would  you  go  1 "  asked  he,  with  affected 
calmness. 

"  Oh,  anywhere ;  no  matter  Avhere,  so  as  we  do 
but  get  away  from  hence  :  we  can  be  at  no  loss." 

"None  in  the  world,"  interrupted  Douglas,  with  a 
bitter  smile,  "  as  long  as  there  is  a  prison  to  receive 
us.  See,"  continued  he,  throwing  a  few  shillings  down 
on  the  table,  "  there  is  every  sixpence  I  possess  in  the 
world,  so  help  me  heaven  ! " 

Lady  Juliana  stood  aghast. 

At  that  instant  the  English  Abigail  burst  into  the 
room,  and  in  a  voice  choking  with  passion,  she 
requested  her  discharge,  that  she  might  return  with 
the  driver  who  had  brought  them  there. 

"A  pretty  way  of  traveling,  to  be  sure,  it  will 
be,"  continued  she,  "to  go  bumping  behind  a  dirty 
chaise-driver ;  but  better  to  be  shook  to  a  jelly  alto- 
gether than  stay  amongst  such  a  set  of  Oaten-toads."''- 

"  What  do  you  mean  1 "  inquired  Douglas,  as 
soon  as  the  voluble  Abigail  allowed  him  an  oppor- 
tunity of  asking. 

"  Why,  my  meaning,  sir,  is  to  leave  this  here  place 
immediately ;  not  that  I  have  any  objections  either  to 
my  Lady  or  you,  sir ;  but,  to  be  sure,  it  was  a  sad 
day  for  me  that  I  engaged  myself  to  her  Ladyship. 
Little  did  I  think  that  a  lady  of  distinction  would 
be  coming  to  such  a  poor  pitiful  place  as  this.  I  am 
1  Hottentots. 


I 


MAKRIAGE.  71 

sure  I  thought  I  should  ha'  swooned  when  I  was 
showed  the  hole  where  I  was  to  sleep." 

At  the  bare  idea  of  this  indignity  to  her  person 
the  fury  of  the  incensed  fair  one  blazed  forth  with 
such  strength  as  to  choke  her  utterance. 

Amazement  had  hitherto  kept  Lady  Juliana  silent ; 
for  to  such  scenes  she  was  a  stranger.  Born  in  an 
elevated  rank,  reared  in  state,  accustomed  to  the  most 
obsequious  attention,  and  never  approached  but  with 
the  respect  due  rather  to  a  divinity  than  to  a  mortal, 
the  strain  of  vulgar  insolence  that  now  assailed  her 
was  no  less  new  to  her  ears  than  shocking  to  her  feel- 
ings. With  a  voice  and  look  that  awed  the  woman 
into  obedience,  she  commanded  her  to  quit  her  presence 
for  ever ;  and  then,  no  longer  able  to  suppress  the 
emotions  of  insulted  pride,  wounded  vanity,  and  in- 
dignant disappointment,  she  gave  way  to  a  violent  fit 
of  hysterics. 

In  the  utmost  perplexity  the  unfortunate  husband 
by  turns  cursed  the  hour  that  had  given  him  such 
a  wife ;  now  tried  to  soothe  her  into  composure  ;  but 
at  length,  seriously  alarmed  at  the  increasing  attack, 
he  called  loudly  for  assistance. 

In  a  moment  the  three  aunts  and  the  five  sisters  all 
rushed  together  into  the  room,  full  of  wonder,  exclama- 
tion, and  inquiry.  Many  were  the  remedies  that  were 
tried  and  the  experiments  that  were  suggested ;  and  at 
length  the  violence  of  passion  exhausted  itself,  and  a 
faint  sob  or  deep  sigh  succeeded  the  hysteric  scream. 

Douglas  now  attempted  to  account  for  the  behaviour 


72  MARRIAGE. 

of  his  noble  spouse  by  ascribing  it  to  the  fatigue  she 
had  lately  undergone,  joined  to  distress  of  mind  at 
her  father's  unrelenting  severity  towards  her. 

"Oh,  the  amiable  creature!"  interrupted  the  un- 
suspecting spinsters,  almost  stifling  her  witii  their 
caresses  as  they  spoke  :  "  Welcome,  a  thousand  times 
welcome,  to  Glenfern  Castle,"  said  Miss  Jacky,  who 
was  esteemed  by  much  the  most  sensible  woman,  as 
well  as  the  greatest  orator  in  the  whole  parish ; 
"nothing  shall  be  wanting,  dearest  Lady  Juliana,  to 
compensate  for  a  parent's  rigour,  and  make  you  happy 
and  comfortable.  Consider  this  as  your  future  home  ! 
My  sisters  and  myself  will  be  as  mothers  to  you ;  and 
see  these  charming  young  creatures,"  dragging  for- 
ward two  tall  frightened  girls,  with  sandy  hair  and 
great  purple  arms ;  "  thank  Providence  for  having 
blest  you  with  such  sisters!"  "Don't  speak  too 
much,  Jacky,  to  our  dear  niece  at  present,"  said  Miss 
Grizzy ;  "  I  think  one  of  Lady  Maclaughlan's  com- 
posing draughts  would  be  the  best  thing  for  her." 

"  Composing  draughts  at  this  time  of  day  ! "  cried 
Miss  Nicky ;  "I  should  think  a  little  good  broth  a 
much  wiser  thing.  There  are  some  excellent  family 
broth  making  below,  and  I'll  desire  Tibby  to  bring 
a  few." 

"  Will  you  take  a  little  soup,  love  1"  asked  Douglas. 
His  lady  assented ;  and  Miss  Nicky  vanished,  but 
quickly  re-entered,  f olloAved  by  Tibby,  carrying  a  huge 
bowl  of  coarse  broth,  swimming  with  leeks,  greens, 
and  grease.     Lady  Juliana  attempted  to  taste  it ;  but 


MAERIAGE.  73 

her  delicate  palate  revolted  at  the  homely  fare  ;  and 
she  gave  up  the  attempt,  in  spite  of  Miss  Nicky's 
earnest  entreaties  to  take  a  few  more  of  these  excellent 
family  broth. 

"I  should  think,"  said  Henry,  as  he  vainly  at- 
tempted to  stir  it  round,  "  that  a  little  wine  would  be 
more  to  the  purpose  than  this  stuff." 

The  aunts  looked  at  each  other ;  and,  withdraw- 
ing to  a  corner,  a  whispering  consultation  took  place, 
in  which  Lady  Maclaughlan's  opinion,  "  birch,  balm, 
currant,  heating,  cooling,  running  risks,"  etc.  etc., 
transpired.  At  length  the  question  Avas  carried  ;  and 
some  tolerable  sherry  and  a  piece  of  very  substantial 
shortbread  were  produced. 

It  was  now  voted  by  Miss  Jacky,  and  carried  nem. 
con.  that  her  Ladyship  ought  to  take  a  little  repose 
till  the  hour  of  dinner. 

"And  don't  trouble  to  dress,"  continued  the  con- 
siderate aunt,  "  for  we  are  not  very  dressy  here  ;  and 
we  are  to  be  quite  a  charming  family  party,  nobody 
but  ourselves;  and,"  turning  to  her  nephew,  "your 
brother  and  his  wife.  She  is  a  most  superior  woman, 
though  she  has  rather  too  many  of  her  English  pre- 
judices yet  to  be  all  we  could  wish;  but  I  have  no 
doubt,  Avhen  she  has  lived  a  little  longer  amongst  us, 
she  Avill  just  become  one  of  ourselves." 

"I  forget  who  she  was,"  said  Douglas. 

"A  grand -daughter  of  Sir  Duncan  Malcolm's,  a 

very  old  family  of  the blood,  and  nearly  allied 

to  the  present  Earl.     And  here  they  come,"  exclaimed 


74  MARRIAGE, 

she,  on  hearing  the  sound  of  a  carriage ;  and  all  rushed 
out  to  receive  them. 

"  Let  us  have  a  glimpse  of  this  scion  from  a  noble 
stock,"  said  Lady  Juliana,  mimicking  the  accent  of 
the  poor  spinsters,  as  she  rose  and  ran  to  the  window. 

"  Good  heavens,  Henry !  do  come  and  behold  this 
equipage;"  and  she  laughed  with  childish  glee  as  she 
pointed  to  a  plain,  old-fashioned  whisky,  with  a  large 
top.  A  tall  handsome  young  man  now  alighted,  and 
lifted  out  a  female  figure,  so  enveloped  in  a  cloak 
that  eyes  less  penetrating  than  Lady  Juliana's  could 
not,  at  a  single  glance,  have  discovered  her  to  be  a 
"frightful  quiz." 

"  Only  conceive  the  effect  of  this  dashing  equipage 
in  Bond  Street ! "  continued  she,  redoubling  her  mirth 
at  the  bright  idea ;  then  suddenly  stopping,  and  sigh- 
ing— "Ah,  my  ^pretty  vis-a^'is /  I  remember  the  first 
time  I  saw  you,  Henry,  I  was  in  it  at  a  review;"  and 
she  sighed  still  deeper. 

"  True ;  I  was  then  aid-de  camp  to  your  handsome 
lover,  the  Duke  of  L ." 

"Perhaps  I  might  think  him  handsome  now. 
People's  tastes  alter  according  to  circumstances." 

"  Yours  must  have  undergone  a  wonderful  revolu- 
tion, if  you  can  find  charms  in  a  hunchback  of  fifty- 
three." 

"He  is  not  a  hunchback,"  returned  her  Ladyship 
warmly ;  "  only  a  little  high  shouldered ;  but  at  any- 
rate  he  has  the  most  beautiful  place  and  the  finest 
house  in  Endand." 


MARRIAGE.  ^5 

Douglas  saw  the  storm  gathering  on  the  brow  of  his 
capricious  wife,  and  clasping  her  in  his  arms,  "Are  you 
indeed  so  changed,  my  Julia,  that  you  have  forgot  the 
time  when  you  used  to  declare  you  would  prefer  a 
desert  with  your  Henry  to  a  throne  with  another." 

"No,  certainly,  not  changed;  but — I — I  did  not 
very  well  know  then  what  a  desert  was ;  or,  at  least, 
I  had  formed  rather  a  different  idea  of  it." 

"What  was  your  idea  of  a  desert?"  said  her 
husband,  laughing.     "Do  tell  me,  love." 

"  Oh !  I  had  fancied  it  a  beautiful  place,  full  of 
roses  and  myrtles,  and  smooth  green  turf,  and  mur- 
muring rivulets,  and,  though  very  retired,  not  abso- 
lutely out  of  the  world ;  where  one  could  occasionally 
see  one's  friends,  and  give  dejeunis  et  fetes  champetres." 

"  Well,  perhaps  the  time  may  come,  Juliana,  when 
we  may  realise  your  Elysian  deserts ;  but  at  present, 
you  know,  I  am  wholly  dependent  on  my  father.  I 
hope  to  prevail  on  him  to  do  something  for  me ;  and 
that  our  stay  here  will  be  short ;  as,  you  may  be  sure, 
the  moment  I  can,  I  will  take  you  hence.  I  am  sen- 
sible it  is  not  a  situation  for  you ;  but  for  my  sake, 
dearest  Juhana,  bear  with  it  for  a  while,  without  be- 
traying your  disgust.  Will  you  do  this,  darling  V  and 
he  kissed  away  the  sullen  tear  that  hung  on  her  cheek. 

"  You  know,  love,  there's  nothing  in  the  world  I 
wouldn't  do  for  you,"  replied  she,  as  she  played  with 
her  squirrel ;  "  and  as  you  promise  our  stay  shall  be 
short,  if  I  don't  die  of  the  horrors  I  shall  certainly 
try  to  make  the  agreeable.     Oh  !  my  cherub  !"  flying 


76  MARRIAGE. 

to  her  pug,  who  came  barking  into  the  room,  "  where 
have  you  been,  and  where's  my  darling  Psyche,  and 
sweet  mackaw?  Do,  Harry,  go  and  see  after  the 
darlings." 

"  I  must  go  and  see  my  brother  and  his  wife  first. 
Will  you  come,  \o\e1" 

"  Oh,  not  now ;  I  don't  feel  equal  to  the  encounter  ; 
besides,  I  must  dress.  But  what  shall  I  do  1  Since 
that  vile  woman's  gone  I  can't  dress  myself.  I  never 
did  such  a  thing  in  my  life,  and  I  am  sure  it's  impos- 
sible that  I  can,"  almost  weeping  at  the  hardships  she 
was  doomed  to  exijerience  in  making  her  own  toilet. 

"Shall  I  be  your  Abigail?"  asked  her  husband, 
Bmiling  at  the  distress;  "methinks  it  would  be  no 
difficult  task  to  deck  my  Julia." 

"  Dear  Harry,  will  you  really  dress  me  1  Oh !  that 
will  be  delightful !  I  shall  die  with  laughing  at  your 
awkwardness;"  and  her  beautiful  eyes  sparkled  with 
childish  deUght  at  the  idea. 

"In  the  meantime,"  said  Douglas,  "I'll  send  some 
one  to  unpack  your  things ;  and  after  I  have  shook 
hands  with  Archie,  and  been  introduced  to  my  new 
sister,  I  shall  enter  on  my  office." 

"  Now  do,  pray,  make  haste  ;  for  I  die  to  see  your 
great  hands  tying  strings  and  sticking  pins." 

Delighted  with  her  gaiety  and  good  humour,  he 
left  her  caressing  her  favourites  ;  and  finding  rather  a 
scarcity  of  female  attendance,  he  despatched  two  of  his 
sisters  to  assist  his  helpless  beauty  in  her  arrange- 
ments. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

"  And  ever  against  eating  cares, 
Lap  me  in  soft  Lydian  airs. " 

L' Allegro. 

When  Douglas  returned  he  found  the  floor  strewed 
with  dresses  of  every  description,  his  sisters  on  their 
knees  before  a  great  trunk  they  were  busied  in  un- 
packing, and  his  Lady  in  her  wrapper,  with  her  hair 
about  her  ears,  still  amusing  herself  with  her  pets. 

*'  See  how  good  your  sisters  are,"  said  she,  pointing 
to  the  poor  girls,  whose  inflamed  faces  bore  testimony 
to  their  labours.  "  I  declare  I  am  quite  sorry  to  see 
them  take  so  much  trouble,"  yawning  as  she  leant 
back  in  her  chair ;  "  is  it  not  quite  shocking,  Tommy  1" 
kissing  her  squirrel.  "  Oh  !  pray,  Henry,  do  tell  me 
what  I  am  to  put  on ;  for  I  protest  I  don't  know. 
Favolle  always  used  to  choose  for  me  ;  and  so  did  that 
odious  Martin,  for  she  had  an  exquisite  taste." 

"  Not  so  exquisite  as  your  own,  I  am  sure ;  so  for 
once  choose  for  yourself,"  replied  the  good-humoured 
husband ;  "  and  pray  make  haste,  for  my  father  waits 
dinner." 

Betwixt  scolding,  laughing,  and  blundering,  the 
dress  was  at  length  completed ;  and  Lady  Juliana,  in 


78  MARRIAGE. 

all  the  pomp  of  dress  and  pride  of  beauty,  descended, 
leaning  on  her  husband's  arni. 

On  entering  the  drawing-room,  which  was  now  in 
a  more  comfortable  state,  Douglas  led  her  to  a  lady 
who  was  sitting  by  the  fire  :  and,  placing  her  hand 
within  that  of  the  stranger,  "  Juliana,  my  love,"  said 
he,  "  this  is  a  sister  whom  you  have  not  yet  seen,  and 
with  whom  I  am  sure  you  will  gladly  make  acquaint- 
ance." 

The  stranger  received  her  noble  sister  with  graceful 
ease ;  and,  with  a  sweet  smile  and  pleasing  accent, 
expressed  herself  happy  in  the  introduction.  Lady 
Juliana  was  surprised  and  somewhat  disconcerted. 
She  had  arranged  her  plans,  and  made  up  her  mind 
to  be  condescending  ;  she  had  resolved  to  enchant  by 
her  sweetness,  dazzle  by  her  brilliancy,  and  overpower 
by  her  affability.  But  there  was  a  simple  dignity 
in  the  air  and  address  of  the  lady,  before  which  even 
high-bred  aff'ectation  sank  abashed.  Before  she  found 
a  reply  to  the  courteous  yet  respectful  salutation  of 
her  sister-in-law  Douglas  introduced  his  brother ;  and 
the  old  gentleman,  impatient  at  any  farther  delay, 
taking  Lady  Juliana  by  the  hand,  pulled,  rather  than 
led  her  into  the  dining-room. 

Even  Lady  Juliana  contrived  to  make  a  meal  of 
the  roast  mutton  and  moorfowl ;  for  the  Laird  piqued 
himself  on  the  breed  of  his  sheep,  and  his  son  was  too 
good  a  sportsman  to  allow  his  friends  to  want  for 
game. 

"I  think  my  darling  Tommy  would  relish    this 


MARRIAGE.  79 

grouse  very  much,"  observed  Lady  Juliana,  as  she 
secured  the  last  remaining  wing  for  her  favourite. 
"Bring  him  here  !"  turning  to  the  tall,  dashing  lackey 
who  stood  behind  her  chair,  and  whose  handsome 
livery  and  well-dressed  hair  formed  a  striking  con- 
trast to  old  Donald's  tartan  jacket  and  bob-wig. 

"Come  hither,  my  sweetest  cherubs,"  extending 
her  arms  towards  the  charming  trio,  as  they  entered, 
barking,  and  chattering,  and  flying  to  their  mistress. 
A  scene  of  noise  and  nonsense  ensued. 

Douglas  remained  silent,  mortified  and  provoked 
at  the  weakness  of  his  wife,  which  not  even  the  silver 
tones  of  her  voice  or  the  elegance  of  her  manners 
could  longer  conceal  from  him.  But  still  there  was  a 
charm  in  her  very  folly,  to  the  eye  of  love,  which  had 
not  yet  wholly  lost  its  power. 

After  the  table  Avas  cleared,  observing  that  he  was 
still  silent  and  abstracted.  Lady  Juliana  turned  to  her 
husband,  and,  laying  her  hand  on  his  shoulder,  "You 
are  not  well,  love  ! "  said  she,  looking  up  in  his  face, 
and  shaking  back  the  redundant  ringlets  that  shaded 
her  own. 

"  Perfectly  so,  "  replied  her  husband,  with  a  sigh. 

"  What  1  dull  1  Then  I  must  sing  to  enliven  you.  " 
And,  leaning  her  head  on  his  shoulder,  she  warbled 
a  verse  of  the  beautiful  little  Venetian  air,  La  Bion- 
dina  in  Gondoletta.  Then  suddenly  stopping,  and 
fixing  her  eyes  on  Mrs.  Douglas,  "  I  beg  pardon, 
perhaps  you  don't  like  music ;  perhaps  my  singing's  a 
bore.  " 


80  MARRIAGE. 

"You  pay  us  a  bad  compliment  in  saying  so,"  said 
her  sister-in-law,  smiling;  "and  the  only  atonement 
you  can  make  for  such  an  injurious  doubt  is  to  pro- 
ceed. " 

"Does  anybody  sing  herel"  asked  she,  without 
noticing  this  request.  "Do,  somebody,  sing  me  a 
song. " 

"  Oh  !  we  all  sing,  and  dance  too,"  said  one  of  the 
old  young  ladies ;  "  and  after  tea  we  will  show  you 
some  of  our  Scotch  steps ;  but  in  the  meantime  Mrs. 
Douglas  will  favour  us  with  her  song." 

Mrs.  Douglas  assented  good-humouredly,  though 
aware  that  it  would  be  rather  a  nice  point  to  please 
all  parties  in  the  choice  of  a  song.  The  Laird 
reckoned  all  foreign  music — i.e.  everything  that  was  not 
Scotch — an  outrage  upon  his  ears ;  and  Mrs.  Douglas 
had  too  much  taste  to  murder  Scotch  songs  with  her 
English  accent.  She  therefore  compromised  the  matter 
as  well  as  she  could  by  selecting  a  Highland  ditty 
clothed  in  her  own  native  tongue  ;  and  sang  with 
much  pathos  and  simplicity  the  lamented  Leyden's 
"Fall  of  Macgregor:" 

"  In  the  vale  of  Glenorchy  the  night  breeze  was  sighing 
O'er  the  tomb  where  the  ancient  Macgregors  are  lying ; 
Green  are  their  graves  by  their  soft  murmuring  river, 
But  the  name  of  Macgi-egor  has  perished  for  ever. 

"  On  a  red  stream  of  light,  by  his  gray  mountains  glancing, 
Soon  I  beheld  a  dim  spirit  advancing  ; 
Slow  o'er  the  heath  of  the  dead  was  its  motion, 
Like  the  shadow  of  mist  o'er  the  foam  of  the  ocean. 


MARRIAGE.  81 

"  Like  the  sound  of  a  stream  through  the  still  evening  dying, — 
Stranger  !  who  treads  where  Macgregor  is  lying  ? 
Barest  thou  to  walk,  unappall'd  and  {irm-heartud, 
'Mid  the  shadowy  steps  of  the  mighty  departed  ? 

' '  Sec  !  round  thee  the  caves  of  the  dead  are  disclosing 
The  shades  that  have  long  been  in  silence  reposing ; 
Thro'  their  forms  dimly  twinkles  the  moon-beam  descending, 
As  upon  thee  their  red  eyes  of  wrath  they  are  bending. 

"  Our  gray  stones  of  fame  though  the  heath-blossom  cover, 
Round  the  fields  of  our  battles  our  spirits  still  hover  ; 
Where  we  oft  saw  the  streams  running  red  from  the  moun- 
tains ; 
But  dark  are  our  forms  by  our  blue  native  fountains. 

"  For  our  fame  melts  away  like  the  foam  of  the  river, 
Like  the  last  yellow  leaves  on  the  oak-boughs  that  shiver : 
The  name  is  unknown  of  our  fathers  so  gallant ; 
And  our  blooei  beats  no  more  in  the  breasts  of  the  valiant. 

"  The  hunter  of  red  deer  now  ceases  to  number 

The  lonely  gray  stones  on  the  field  of  our  slumber. — 
Fly,  stranger  !  and  let  not  thine  eye  be  reverted  ; 
Why  should'st  thou  see  that  our  fame  is  departed  ? " 

"Pray,  do  you  play  on  the  harpi"  asked  the  vola- 
tile lady,  scarcely  Avaiting  till  the  first  stanza  was 
ended  ;  "  and,  apropos,  have  you  a  good  harp  here  f 

We've  a  very  sweet  spinnet,"  said  Miss  Jacky, 
"  which,  in  my  opinion,  is  a  far  superior  instrument : 
and  Bella  will  give  us  a  tune  upon  it.  Bella,  my  dear, 
let  Lady  Juliana  hear  how  well  you  can  play.  " 

Bella,  blushing  like  a  peony  rose,  retired  to  a 
corner  of  the  room,  where  stood  the  spinnet ;  and  with 
great,  heav}',  trembling  hands,  began  to  belabour  the 
unfortunate  instrument,   while  the  aunts  beat  time, 

VOL.   I.  G  M. 


82  MARRIAGE. 

and  encouraged  her  to  proceed  with  exclamations  of 
admiration  and  applause. 

"You  have  done  very  well,  Bella,"  said  Mrs. 
Douglas,  seeing  her  preparing  to  execute  another  piece, 
and  pitying  the  poor  girl,  as  well  as  her  auditors. 
Then  whispering  Miss  Jacky  that  Lady  Juliana  looked 
fatigued,  they  arose  to  quit  the  room. 

"Give  me  your  arm,  love,  to  the  drawing-room," 
said  her  Ladyship  languidly.  "  And  now,  pray,  don't 
be  long  away,"  continued  she,  as  he  placed  her  on  the 
sofa,  and  returned  to  the  gentlemen. 


CHAPTER  V. 

*•  You  have  displaced  the  mirth,  broke  the  good  meeting, 
With  most  admired  disorder."  Machdh 

The  interval,  which  seemed  of  endless  duration  to 
the  hapless  Lady  Juliana,  was  passed  by  the  aunts  in 
giving  sage  counsel  as  to  the  course  of  life  to  be 
pursued  by  married  ladies.  Worsted  stockings  and 
quilted  petticoats  were  insisted  upon  as  indispensable 
articles  of  dress  ;  while  it  was  plainly  insinuated  tliiit 
it  was  utterly  impossible  any  child  could  be  healthy 
whose  mother  had  not  confined  her  wishes  to  barle}^ 
broth  and  oatmeal  porridge. 

"  Only  look  at  thae  young  lambs,"  said  Miss  Grizzy, 
pointing  to  the  five  great  girls ;  "  see  what  pickters 
of  health  they  are  !  I'm  sure  I  hope,  my  dear  niece, 
your  children  will  be  just  the  same — only  boys,  for 
we  are  sadly  in  want  of  boys.  It's  melancholy  to 
think  we  have  not  a  boy  among  us,  and  that  a  fine 
auntient  race  like  ours  should  be  dying  away  for  want 
of  male  heirs."  And  the  tears  streamed  do\\Ti  the 
cheeks  of  the  good  spinster  as  she  spoke. 

The  entrance  of  the  gentlemen  put  a  stop  to  the 
conversation. 

Flying  to  her   husband.   Lady  Juliana   began   to 


84  MAERIAGE. 

whisper,  in  very  audible  tones,  her  inquiries,  whether 
he  had  yet  got  any  money — when  they  were  to  go 
away,  etc.  etc. 

"  Does  your  Ladyship  choose  any  tea  V  asked  Miss 
Nicky,  as  she  disseminated  the  little  cups  of  coarse 
black  liquid. 

"  Tea !  oh  no,  I  never  drink  tea.  I'll  take  some 
coffee  though;  and  Psyche  doats  on  a  dish  of  tea."  And 
she  tendered  the  beverage  that  had  been  intendoil 
for  herself  to  her  favourite. 

"  Here's  no  coffee,"  said  Douglas,  surveying  the 
tea-table ;  "  but  I  will  ring  for  some,"  as  he  pulled 
the  bell. 

Old  Donald  answered  the  summons. 

"  Where's  the  coffee  1 "  demanded  Miss  Nicky. 

"  The  coffee  !  "  repeated  the  Highlander ;  "  troth. 
Miss  Nicky,  an'  it's  been  clean  forgot." 

"  Well,  but  you  can  get  it  yet  1 "  said  Douglas. 

"  'Deed,  Maister  Harry,  the  night's  owre  far  gane 
for't  noo ;  for  the  fire's  a'  ta'en  up,  ye  see,"  reckoning 
with  his  fingers,  as  he  proceeded;  "there's  parritch 
makin'  for  oor  supper;  and  there's  patatees  boiling 
for  the  beasts  ;  and " 

"I'll  see  about  it  myself,"  said  Miss  Nicky,  leaving 
the  room,  with  old  Donald  at  her  back,  muttering  all 
the  way. 

The  old  Laird,  all  this  while,  bad  been  enjoying 
his  evening  nap ;  but,  that  now  ended,  and  the  tea 
equipage  being  dismissed,  starting  up,  he  asked  what 
they  were  about,  that  the  dancing  was  not  begun. 


MARRIAGE.  85 

*'  Come,  my  Leddy,  we'll  set  the  example,"  snapping 
his  fingers,  and  singing  in  a  hoarse  voice, 

"  The  mouse  is  a  merry  beastie, 
And  the  moudiwort  wants  the  een  ; 
But  folk  sail  ne'er  get  wit, 
Sae  merry  as  we  twa  ha'e  been. ' 

"But  whar's  the  girlies?"  cried  he.  "Ho  !  Belle, 
Becky,  Betty,  Baby,  Beeny — to  yoiu"  posts  ! " 

The  young  ladies,  eager  for  the  delights  of  music 
and  dancing,  now  entered,  followed  by  Coil,  the  piper, 
dressed  in  the  native  garb,  with  cheeks  seemingly 
ready  blown  for  the  occasion.  After  a  little  strutting 
and  puffing,  the  pipes  were  fairly  set  agoing  in  Coil's 
most  spirited  manner.  But  vain  would  be  the  attempt 
to  describe  Lady  Juliana's  horror  and  amazement  at 
the  hideous  sounds  that  for  the  first  time  assailed  her 
ear.  Tearing  herself  from  the  grasp  of  the  old  gentle- 
man, who  was  just  setting  off  in  the  reel,  she  flew 
shrieking  to  her  husband,  and  threw  herself  trembling 
into  his  arms,  while  he  called  loudly  to  the  self- 
delighted  Coil  to  stop. 

"  What's  the  matter  1  what's  the  matter  1 "  cried 
the  whole  family,  gathering  round. 

"  Matter  !  "  repeated  Douglas  furiously  ;  "  you  have 
frightened  Lady  Juliana  to  death  with  your  infernal 
music.  What  did  you  mean,"  timiing  fiercely  to 
the  astonished  piper,  "by  blowing  that  confounded 
bladder?" 

Poor  Coil   gaped  with   astonishment;   for  never 


86  MARRIAGE. 

before  had  his  performance  on  the  bagpipe  been  heard 
but  with  admiration  and  applause. 

"A  bonny  bargain,  indeed,  that  canna  stand  the 
pipes,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  as  he  went  puffing  up 
and  down  the  room.  "  She's  no  the  wife  for  a  Heeland- 
man.  Confoonded  blather,  indeed !  By  my  faith, 
ye're  no  blate  ! " 

"I  declare  it's  the  most  distressing  thing  I  ever 
met  with,"  sighed  Miss  Grizzy.  "I  wonder  whether 
it  could  be  the  sight  or  the  sound  of  the  bagpipe  that 
frightened  our  dear  niece.  I  wish  to  goodness  Lady 
Maclaughlan  was  here  ! " 

"It's  impossible  the  bagpipe  could  frighten  any- 
body," said  Miss  Jacky,  in  a  high  key ;  "  nobody 
with  common  sense  could  be  frightened  at  a  bag- 
pipe." 

Mrs.  Douglas  here  mildly  interposed,  and  soothed 
down  the  offended  pride  of  the  Highlanders  by  attri- 
buting Lady  Juliana's  agitation  entirely  to  surprise. 
The  word  operated  hke  a  charm ;  all  were  ready  to 
admit  that  it  was  a  surprising  thing  when  heard  for  the 
first  time.  Miss  Jacky  remarked  that  we  are  all  liable 
to  be  surprised  ;  and  the  still  more  sapient  Grizzy  said 
that,  indeed,  it  was  most  surprising  the  effect  that 
surprise  had  upon  some  people.  For  her  own  part, 
she  could  not  deny  but  that  she  was  very  often 
frightened  when  she  was  surprised. 

Douglas,  meanwhile,  was  employed  in  soothing  the 
terrors,  real  or  affected,  of  his  delicate  bride,  who 
declared  herself  so  exhausted  with  the  fatigue  she 


MARRIAGE.  87 

had  undergone,  and  the  sufferings  she  had  endured, 
that  she  must  retire  for  the  night,  Henry,  eager  to 
escape  from  the  questions  and  remarks  of  his  family, 
gladly  availed  himself  of  the  same  excuse  ;  and,  to 
the  infinite  mortification  of  both  aunts  and  nieces, 
the  ball  was  broken  up. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"What  clioice  to  choose  for  delicacy  best." 

M ILTON. 

Of  what  nature  were  the  remarks  passed  in  the 
parlour  upon  the  new  married  couple  has  not  reached 
the  writer  of  these  memoirs  with  as  much  exactness 
as  the  foregoing  circumstances ;  but  they  may  in  part 
be  imagined  from  the  sketch  already  given  of  tlie 
characters  which  formed  the  Glenfern  party.  The 
conciliatory  indulgence  of  Mrs.  Douglas,  when  aided 
by  the  good-natured  Miss  Grizzy,  doubtless  had  a 
favourable  effect  on  the  irritated  pride  but  short-lived 
acrimony  of  the  old  gentleman.  Certain  it  is  that, 
before  the  evening  concluded,  they  appeared  all  re- 
stored to  harmony,  and  retired  to  their  respective 
chambers  in  hopes  of  beholding  a  more  propitious 
morrow. 

Who  has  not  perused  sonnets,  odes,  and  speeches 
in  praise  of  that  balmy  blessing  sleep ;  from  the 
divine  efTusions  of  Shakespeare  down  to  the  drowsy 
notes  of  newspaper  poets  1 

Yet  cannot  too  much  be  said  in  its  commendation. 
Sweet  is  its  influence  on  the  careworn  eyes  to  tears 


^1 


MARrJAGE.  89 

accustomed.  In  its  arms  the  statesman  forgets  his 
harassed  thoughts;  the  weary  and  the  poor  are  blessed 
with  its  charms ;  and  conscience — even  conscience — 
is  sometimes  soothed  into  silence,  while  the  sufferer 
sleeps.  But  nowhere,  perhaps,  is  its  influence  more 
happily  felt  than  in  the  heart  oppressed  by  the  har- 
assing accumulation  of  petty  ills ;  like  a  troop  of 
locusts,  making  up  by  their  number  and  their  stings 
what  they  want  in  magnitude. 

Mortified  pride  in  discovering  the  fallacy  of  our 
own  judgment ;  to  be  ashamed  of  what  we  love,  yet 
still  to  love,  are  feelings  most  unpleasant ;  and  though 
they  assume  not  the  dignity  of  deep  distress,  yet 
philosophy  has  scarce  any  power  to  soothe  their 
worrjang,  incessant  annoyance.  Douglas  was  glad  to 
forget  himself  in  sleep.  He  had  thought  a  vast  deal 
that  day,  and  of  unpleasant  subjects,  more  than  the 
whole  of  his  foregoing  life  would  have  produced.  If 
he  did  not  curse  the  fair  object  of  his  imprudence, 
he  at  least  cursed  his  own  folly  and  himself ;  and 
these  were  his  last  waking  thoughts. 

But  Douglas  could  not  repose  as  long  as  the  seven 
sleepers,  and,  in  consequence  of  having  retired  sooner 
to  bed  than  he  was  accustomed  to  do,  he  waked  at  an 
early  hour  in  the  morning. 

The  wonderful  activity  which  people  sometimes 
feel  when  they  have  little  to  do  with  their  bodies,  and 
less  with  their  minds,  caused  him  to  rise  hastily  and 
dress,  hoping  to  pick  up  a  new  set  of  ideas  by  virtue 
of  his  locomotive  powers. 


90  MARRIAGE. 

On  descending  to  the  dining-parlour  he  found  his 
father  seated  at  the  window,  carefully  perusing  a 
pamphlet  written  to  illustrate  the  principle,  Let 
nothing  be  lost,  and  containing  many  sage  and  erudite 
directions  for  the  composition  and  dimensions  of  that 
ornament  to  a  gentleman's  farmyard,  and  a  cottager's 
front  door,  ycleped,  in  the  language  of  the  country,  a 
midden — with  the  signification  of  which  we  would  not, 
for  the  world,  shock  the  more  refined  feelings  of  our 
southern  readers. 

Many  were  the  inquiries  about  dear  Lady  Juliana ; 
hoped  she  had  rested  well ;  hoped  they  found  the  bed 
comfortable,  etc.  etc.  These  inquiries  were  inter- 
rupted by  the  Laird,  who  requested  his  son  to  take 
a  turn  with  him  while  breakfast  was  getting  ready, 
that  they  might  talk  over  past  events  and  new  plans ; 
that  he  might  see  the  new  planting  on  the  hill ;  the 
draining  of  the  great  moss ;  with  other  agricultural 
concerns  which  we  shall  omit,  not  having  the  same 
power  of  commanding  attention  for  our  readers  as 
the  Laird  had  from  his  hearers. 

After  repeated  summonses  and  many  inquiries 
from  the  impatient  party  already  assembled  round  the 
breakfast  table.  Lady  Juliana  made  her  appearance, 
accompanied  by  her  favourites,  whom  no  persuasions  of 
her  husband  could  prevail  upon  her  to  leave  behind. 

As  she  entered  the  room  her  olfactory  nerves  were 
smote  with  gales,  not  of  "  Araby  the  blest,"  but  of  old 
cheese  and  herrings,  with  which  the  hospitable  board 
was  amply  provided. 


MAERIAGE.  91 

The  ladies  having  severally  exchanged  the  salu- 
tations of  the  morning,  Miss  Nicky  commenced  the 
operation  of  pouring  out  tea,  while  the  Laird  laid 
a  large  piece  of  herring  on  her  Ladyship's  plate. 

"  Good  heavens  !  what  am  I  to  do  with  this  1 " 
exclaimed  she.      "  Do  take  it  away,  or  I  shall  faint !  " 

"Brother,  brother!"  cried  Miss  Grizzy  in  a  tone 
of  alarm,  "I  beg  you- won't  place  any  unpleasant 
object  before  the  eyes  of  our  dear  niece.  I  declare  ! 
Pray,  was  it  the  sight  or  the  smell  of  the  beast  ^ 
that  shocked  you  so  much,  my  dear  Lady  Juliana  1 
I'm  sure  I  wish  to  goodness  Lady  Maclaughlan  was 
come ! " 

Mr.  Douglas,  or  the  Major,  as  he  was  styled,  imme- 
diately rose  and  pulled  the  bell. 

"Desire  my  gig  to  be  got  ready  directly!"  said 
he. 

The  aunts  drew  up  stiffly,  and  looked  at  each  other 
without  speaking;  but  the  old  gentleman  expressed 
his  surprise  that  his  son  should  think  of  leaving  them 
so  soon. 

"May  we  inquire  the  reason  of  this  sudden  resolu- 
tion'?" at  length  said  Miss  Jacky  in  a  tone  of  stifled 
indignation. 

"  Certainly,  if  you  are  disposed  to  hear  it ;  it  is 
because  I  find  that  there  is  company  expected." 

The  three  ladies  turned  up  tlieir  hands  and  eyes  in 
speechless  horror. 

^  In  Scotland  everything  that  flies  and  swims  ranks  in  the 
bestial  tribe. 


92  MARRIAGE. 

"Is  it  that  virtuous  woman  Lady  Maclaughlan 
you  would  shun,  nephew?"  demanded  Miss  Jacky. 

"It  is  that  insufferable  woman  I  would  shun," 
replied  her  nephew,  with  a  heightened  colour  and  a 
violence  very  unusual  with  him. 

The  good  Miss  Grizzy  drew  out  her  pocket-hand- 
kerchief, while  Mrs.  Douglas  vainly  endeavoured  to 
silence  her  husband,  and  avert  the  rising  storm. 

"Dear  Douglas  !"  whispered  his  wife  in  a  tone  of 
reproach. 

"Oh,  pray  let  him  go  on,"  said  Miss  Jacky,  almost 
choking  under  the  effort  she  made  to  appear  calm. 
"  Let  him  go  on.  Lady  Maclaughlan's  character,  luckily, 
is  far  above  the  reach  of  calumny ;  nothing  that  Mr. 
Archibald  Douglas  can  say  will  have  power  to  change 
our  opinions,  or,  I  hope,  to  prejudice  his  brother  and 
Lady  Juliana  against  this  most  exemplary,  virtuous 
woman — a  woman  of  family — of  fortune — of  talents — 
of  accomplishments  ;  a  woman  of  unblemished  reputa- 
tion— of  the  strictest  morals,  sweetest  temper,  charm- 
ing heart,  delightful  spirits,  so  charitable — every  year 
gives  fifty  flannel  petticoats  to  the  old  people  of  the 
parish " 

"Then  such  a  wife  as  she  is!"  sobbed  out  Miss 
Grizzy.  "  She  has  invented  I  don't  know  how  many 
different  medicines  for  Sir  Sampson's  complaint,  and 
makes  a  point  of  his  taking  some  of  them  every  day ; 
but  for  her  I'm  sure  he  would  have  been  in  his  grave 
long  ago." 

"She's  doing  all  she  can  to  send  him  there,  as 


MARRIAGE.  93 

she  has  done  many  a  poor  wretch  ah-eady,  with  her 
infernal  compositions." 

Here  Miss  Grizzy  sank  back  in  her  chair,  overcome 
with  horror ;  and  Miss  Nicky  let  fall  the  teapot,  the 
scalding  contents  of  Avhich  discharged  themselves  upon 
the  unfortunate  Psyche,  whose  yells,  mingling  with 
the  screams  of  its  fair  mistress,  for  a  while  drowned 
even  Miss  Jacky's  oratory. 

"  Oh,  what  shall  I  do  f  cried  Lady  Juliana,  as  she 
bent  over  her  favourite.  "  Do  send  for  a  surgeon ; 
pray,  Henry,  fly  !  Do  fetch  one  directly,  or  she  will 
die ;  and  it  would  quite  kill  me  to  lose  my  darling. 
Do  run,  dearest  Harry  !" 

"  My  dear  Julia,  how  can  you  be  so  absurd '? 
There's  no  surgeon  within  twenty  miles  of  this." 

"  No  surgeon  within  twenty  miles  !"  exclaimed  she, 
starting  up.  "How  could  you  bring  me  to  such  a 
place  ?  Good  God  !  those  dear  creatures  may  die — I 
may  die  myself — before  I  can  get  any  assistance  !" 

"  Don't  be  alarmed,  my  dearest  niece,"  said  the  good 
Miss  Grizzy ;  "  we  are  all  doctors  here.  I  understand 
something  of  physic  myself ;  and  our  friend  Lady 
Maclaughlan,  who,  I  daresay,  will  be  here  presently,  is 
perfect  mistress  of  every  disease  of  the  human  frame." 

"Clap  a  cauld  potatae  to  the  brute's  tae,"  cried 
the  old  Laird  gruffly. 

"  I've  a  box  of  her  scald  ointment  that  will  cure  it 
in  a  minute." 

"If  it  don't  cure,  it  will  kill,"  said  Mr.  Douglas, 
with  a  smile. 


94  MARRIAGE. 

"  Brother,"  said  Miss  Jacky,  rising  with  dignity 
from  her  chair,  and  waving  her  hand  as  she  spoke — 
"  brother,  I  appeal  to  you  to  protect  the  character  of 
this  most  amiable,  respectable  matron  from  the  insults 
and  calumny  your  son  thinks  proper  to  load  it  with. 
Sir  Sampson  Maclaughlan  is  your  friend,  and  it  there- 
fore becomes  your  duty  to  defend  his  wife." 

"  Troth,  but  I'll  hae  aneugh  to  do  if  I  am  to  stand 
up  for  a'  my  friends'  wives,"  said  the  old  gentleman. 
"  But,  however,  Archie,  you  are  to  blame :  Leddy 
Maclaughlan  is  a  very  decent  woman — at  least,  as  far 
as  I  ken — though  she  is  a  little  free  in  the  gab ;  and 
out  of  respect  to  my  auld  friend  Sir  Sampson,  it  is 
my  desire  that  you  should  remain  here  to  receive  him, 
and  that  you  trait  baith  him  and  his  Lady  discreetly." 

This  was  said  in  too  serious  a  tone  to  be  disputed, 
and  his  son  was  obliged  to  submit. 

The  ointment  meanwhile  having  been  applied  to 
Psyche's  paw,  peace  was  restored,  and  breakfast 
recommenced. 

"  I  declare  our  dear  niece  has  not  tasted  a  morsel," 
observed  Miss  Nicky. 

"Bless  me,  here's  charming  barley  meal  scones," 
cried  one,  thrusting  a  plateful  of  them  before  her. 
"Here's  tempting  pease  bannocks,"  interposed  another, 
"and  oat  cakes.  I'm  sure  your  Ladyship  never  saw 
such  cakes." 

"  I  can't  eat  any  of  those  things,"  said  their  delicate 
niece,  with  an  air  of  disgust.  "I  should  like  some 
muffin  and  chocolate." 


MARRIAGE.  95 

"You  forget  you  are  not  in  London,  my  love," 
said  her  husband  reproachfully. 

"No  indeed,  I  do  not  forget  it.  Well  then,  give 
me  some  toast,"  with  an  air  of  languid  condescension. 

"  Unfortunately,  we  happen  be  quite  out  of  loaf 
bread  at  present,"  said  Miss  Nicky;  "but  Ave've  sent 
to  Drymsine  for  some.  They  bake  excellent  bread  at 
Drymsine." 

"  Is  there  nothing  within  the  bounds  of  possibility 
you  would  fancj^,  Julia "2"  asked  Douglas.  "Do  think, 
love." 

"I  think  I  should  like  some  grouse,  or  a  beef- 
steak, if  it  was  very  nicely  done,"  returned  her  Lady- 
ship in  a  languishing  tone. 

"Beef-steak  !"  repeated  Miss  Grizzy. 

"  Beef-steak  ! "  responded  Miss  Jacky. 

"Beef-steak  !"  reverberated  Miss  Nicky. 

After  much  deliberation  and  consultation  amongst 
the  three  spinsters,  it  was  at  length  unanimously 
carried  that  the  Lady's  whim  should  be  indulged. 

"  Only  think,  sisters,"  observed  Miss  Grizzy  in  an 
undertone,  "  what  reflections  we  should  have  to  make 
upon  ourselves  if  the  child  was  to  resemble  a  moor- 
fowl!" 

"Or  have  a  face  like  a  raw  beef -steak  !"  said  JMiss 
Nicky. 

These  arguments  were  unanswerable  ;  and  a  smok- 
ing steak  and  plump  moor-fowl  were  quickly  produced, 
of  which  Lady  Juliana  partook  in  company  with  her 
four-footed  favourites. 


CHAPTER  Vir. 

"  Wlien  winter  soaks  the  fields,  and  female  feet — 
Too  weak  to  struggle  with  tenacious  clay, 
Or  ford  the  rivulets — are  best  at  home." 

The  Task. 

TiiK  meal  being  at  length  concluded,  Glenfern  desired 
Henry  to  attend  him  on  a  walk,  as  he  wished  to  have 
a  little  more  private  conversation  with  him.  Lady 
Juliana  was  beginning  a  remonstrance  against  the 
cruelty  of  taking  Harry  away  from  her,  when  her 
husband  whispering  her  that  he  hoped  to  make  some- 
thing of  the  old  gentleman,  and  that  he  should  soon 
be  back,  she  suffered  him  to  depart  in  silence. 

Old  Donald  having  at  length  succeeded  in  clearing 
the  table  of  its  heterogeneous  banquet,  it  was  quickly 
covered  with  the  young  ladies'  work. 

Miss  Nicky  withdrew  to  her  household  affairs. 
Miss  Jacky  sat  with  one  eye  upon  Lady  Juliana,  the 
other  upon  her  five  nieces.  Miss  Grizzy  seated  her- 
self by  her  Ladyship,  holding  a  spread  letter  of  Lady 
Maclaughlan's  before  her  as  a  screen. 

While  the  young  ladies  busily  plied  their  needles, 
the  elder  ones  left  no  means  untried  to  entertain  their 
listless  niece,  whose  only  replies  were  exclamations  of 


MAREIAGE,  97 

weariness,  or  expressions  of  affection  bestowed  upon 
her  favourites. 

At  length  even  Miss  Jacky's  sense  and  Miss  Grizzy's 
good  nature  were  at  fault ;  when  a  ray  of  sunshine 
darting  into  the  room  suggested  the  idea  of  a  walk. 
The  proposal  was  made,  and  assented  to  by  her 
Ladyship,  in  the  twofold  hope  of  meeting  her  husband 
and  pleasing  her  dogs,  whose  whining  and  scratching 
had  for  some  time  testified  their  desire  of  a  change. 
The  ladies  therefore  separated  to  prepare  for  their  sortie, 
after  many  recommendations  from  the  aunts  to  be 
sure  to  hap'^  well;  but,  as  if  distrusting  her  powers 
in  that  way,  they  speedily  equipped  themselves,  and 
repaired  to  her  chamber,  arrayed  cap-h-pie  in  the 
walking  costume  of  Glenfern  Castle.  And,  indeed,  it 
must  be  owned  their  style  of  dress  was  infinitely  more 
judicious  than  that  of  their  fashionable  niece ;  and  it 
was  not  surprising  that  they,  in  their  shrunk  dufl3e 
greatcoats,  vast  poke -bonnets,  red  worsted  neck- 
cloths, and  pattens,  should  gaze  with  horror  at  her 
lace  cap,  lilac  satin  pelisse,  and  silk  shoes.  Ruin  to 
the  whole  race  of  Glenfern,  present  and  future,  seemed 
■inevitable  from  such  a  display  of  extravagance  and 
imprudence.  Having  surmounted  the  first  shock, 
Miss  Jacky  made  a  violent  ejffort  to  subdue  her  rising 
wrath  ;  and,  with  a  sort  of  con\Tilsive  smile,  addressed 
Lady  Juliana  :  "  Your  Ladyship,  I  perceive,  is  not  of 
the  opinion  of  our  inimitable  bard,  who,  in  his  charm- 
ing poem,  *  The  Seasons,'  says  '  Beauty  needs  not  the 

1  Wrap. 
VOL.  I  H 


98  MARRIAGE. 

foreign  aid  of  ornament;  but  is,  when  unadorned, 
adorned  the  most.'  That  is  a  truth  that  ought  to  be 
impressed  on  every  young  woman's  mind." 

Lady  Juliana  only  stared.  She  was  as  little 
accustomed  to  be  advised  as  she  was  to  hear  Thomson's 
"  Seasons  "  quoted. 

"I  declare  that's  all  quite  true,"  said  the  more 
temporising  Grizzy ;  "  and  certainly  our  girls  are  not 
in  the  least  taken  up  about  their  dress,  poor  things ! 
which  is  a  great  comfort.  At  the  same  time,  I'm  sure 
it's  no  wonder  your  Ladyship  should  be  taken  up 
about  yours,  for  certainly  that  pelisse  is  most  beautiful. 
Nobody  can  deny  that ;  and  I  daresay  it  is  the  very 
newest  fashion.  At  the  same  time,  I'm  just  afraid 
that  it's  rather  too  delicate,  and  that  it  might  perhaps 
get  a  little  dirty  on  our  roads ;  for  although,  in 
general,  our  roads  are  quite  remarkable  for  being 
always  dry,  which  is  a  great  comfort  in  the  country, 
yet  you  know  the  very  best  roads  of  course  must  be 
wet  sometimes.  And  there's  a  very  bad  step  just  at 
the  door  almost,  which  Glenfern  has  been  always 
speaking  about  getting  mended.  But,  to  be  sure,  he 
has  so  many  things  to  think  about  that  it's  no  wonder 
he  forgets  sometimes;  but  I  daresay  he  will  get  it 
done  very  soon  now." 

The  prospect  of  the  road  being  mended  produced 
no  better  effect  than  the  quotation  from  Thomson's 
"Seasons."     It  was  now  Miss  Nicky's  turn. 

"  I'm  afraid  your  Ladyship  will  frighten  our  stirks 
and  stots  with  your  finery.      I  assure  you  they  are 


MARRIAGK  99 

not  accustomed  to  see  such  fine  figures;  and" — putting 
her  hand  out  at  the  window — "I  think  it's  spitting 
already."^ 

All  three  now  joined  in  the  chorus,  beseeching  Lady 
Juliana  to  put  on  something  warmer  and  more  wise- 
like. 

"I  positively  have  nothing,"  cried  she,  wearied 
with  their  importunities,  "and  I  shan't  get  any  winter 
things  now  till  I  return  to  town.  My  roquelaire  does 
very  well  for  the  carriage." 

The  acknowledgment  at  the  besinninsr  of  this 
speech  was  enough.  All  three  instantly  disappeared 
like  the  genii  of  Aladin's  lamp,  and,  hke  that  same 
person,  presently  returned,  loaded  with  what,  in  their 
eyes,  were  precious  as  the  gold  of  Arabia.  One  dis- 
played a  hard  worsted  shawl,  with  a  flower-pot  at  each 
corner ;  another  held  up  a  tartan  cloak,  with  a  hood ; 
and  a  third  thrust  forward  a  dark  cloth  Joseph,  hned 
with  flannel;  while  one  and  all  showered  down  a 
variety  of  old  bonnets,  fur  tippets,  hair  soles,  clogs, 
pattens,  and  endless  et  ceteras.  Lady  Juhana  shrank 
with  disgust  from  these  "delightful  haps,"  and  re- 
sisted all  attempts  to  have  them  forced  upon  her, 
declaring,  in  a  manner  which  showed  her  determined 
to  have  her  own  way,  that  she  would  either  go  out 
as  she  was  or  not  go  out  at  all.  The  aunts  were 
therefore  obliged  to  submit,  and  the  party  proceeded 
to  what  was  termed  the  high  road,  though  a  stranger 
would  have  sought  in  vain  for  its  pretensions  to  that 

^  A  common  expression  in  Scotland  to  signify  slight  rain. 


100  MAERIA(!E 

title.  Far  as  the  eye  could  reach — and  that  was  far 
enough — not  a  single  vehicle  could  be  descried  on  it, 
though  its  deep  ruts  showed  that  it  was  well  frequented 
by  carts.  The  scenery  might  have  had  charms  for 
Ossian,  but  it  had  none  for  Lady  Juliana,  who  would 
rather  have  been  entangled  in  a  string  of  Bond  Street 
equipages  than  traversing  "  the  lonely  heath,  with 
the  stream  murmuring  hoarsely,  the  old  trees  groan- 
ing in  the  wind,  the  troubled  lake,"  and  the  still  more 
troubled  sisters.  As  may  be  supposed,  she  very  soon 
grew  weary  of  the  walk.  The  bleak  wind  pierced 
her  to  the  soul ;  her  silk  slippers  and  lace  flounces 
became  undistinguishable  masses  of  mud ;  her  dogs 
chased  the  sheep,  and  were,  in  their  turn,  pursued  by 
the  "  nowts,"  as  the  ladies  termed  the  steers.  One 
sister  expatiated  on  the  great  blessing  of  having  a 
peat  moss  at  their  door ;  another  was  at  pains  to 
point  out  the  purposed  site  of  a  set  of  new  offices ; 
and  the  third  lamented  that  her  Ladyship  had  not  on 
thicker  shoes,  that  she  might  have  gone  and  seen  the 
garden.  More  than  ever  disgusted  and  wretched,  the 
hapless  Lady  Juliana  returned  to  the  house  to  fret 
away  the  time  till  her  husband's  return. 


CHAPTER  VIIL 

"On  se  rend  insupportable  dans  la  societe  par  des  defauts 
legers,  mais  qui  se  font  seutir  a  tout  moment." — Voltaire. 

The  family  of  Glenfern  have  already  said  so  much 
for  themselves  that  it  seems  as  if  little  remained  to 
be  told  by  their  biographer.  Mrs.  Douglas  was  the 
only  member  of  the  community  who  was  at  all  con- 
scious of  the  unfortunate  association  of  characters  and 
•  habits  that  had  just  taken  place.  She  was  a  stranger 
to  Lady  Juliana ;  but  she  was  interested  by  her  youth, 
beauty,  and  elegance,  and  felt  for  the  sacrifice  she  had 
made — a  sacrifice  so  much  greater  than  it  was  possible 
she  ever  could  have  conceived  or  anticipated.  She 
could  in  some  degree  enter  into  the  nature  of  her 
feehngs  towards  the  old  ladies ;  for  she  too  had  felt 
how  disagreeable  people  might  contrive  to  render 
themselves  without  being  guilty  of  any  particular 
fault,  and  how  much  more  difficult  it  is  to  bear  Avith 
the  weaknesses  than  the  vices  of  our  neighbours. 
Had  these  ladies'  failings  been  greater  in  a  moral 
point  of  view,  it  might  not  have  been  so  arduous  a 
task  to  put  up  with  them.  But  to  love  such  a  set 
of  little,  trifling,  tormenting  foibles,  all  dignified  with 


102  MARRIAGE. 

the  name  of  virtues,  required,  from  her  elegant  mind, 
an  exertion  of  its  highest  principles — a  continual 
remembrance  of  that  difficult  Christian  precept,  "  to 
bear  with  one  another."  A  person  of  less  sense  than 
Mrs.  Douglas  would  have  endeavoured  to  open  the 
eyes  of  their  understandings  on  what  appeared  to  be 
the  folly  and  narrowmindedness  of  their  ways ;  but 
she  refrained  from  the  attempt,  not  from  want  of 
benevolent  exertion,  but  from  an  innate  conviction 
that  their  foibles  all  originated  in  what  was  now 
incurable,  viz.  the  natural  weakness  of  their  minds, 
together  with  their  ignorance  of  the  world  and  the 
illiberality  and  prejudices  of  a  vulgar  education. 
"These  poor  women,"  reasoned  the  charitable  Mrs. 
Douglas,  "are  perhaps,  after  all,  better  characters 
in  the  sight  of  God  than  I  am.  He  Avho  has  endowed  , 
us  all  as  His  wisdom  has  seen  fit,  and  has  placed  me 
amongst  them,  oh,  may  He  teach  me  to  remember 
that  we  are  all  His  children,  and  enable  me  to  bear 
with  their  faults,  Avhile  I  study  to  correct  my  owil" 

Thus  did  this  amiable  woman  contrive  not  only 
to  live  in  peace,  but,  without  sacrificing  her  own 
liberal  ideas,  to  be  actually  beloved  by  those  amongst 
whom  her  lot  had  been  cast,  however  dissimilar  to 
herself.  But  for  that  Christian  spirit  (in  which  must 
ever  be  included  a  liberal  mind  and  gentle  temper), 
she  must  have  felt  towards  her  connexions  a  still 
stronger  repugnance  than  was  even  manifested  by 
Lady  Juliana ;  for  Lady  Juliana's  superiority  over 
them  was  merely  that  of  refined  habits  and  elegant 


MARRIAGE,  103 

manners ;  whereas  Mrs.  Douglas's  was  the  superiority 
of  a  noble  and  highly-gifted  mind,  which  could  hold 
no  intercourse  with  theirs  except  by  stooping  to  the 
level  of  their  low  capacities.  But,  that  the  merit  of 
her  conduct  may  be  duly  appreciated,  I  shall  en- 
deavour to  give  a  slight  sketch  of  the  female  dramatis 
personce  of  Glenfem  Castle. 

Miss  Jacky,  the  senior  of  the  trio,  was  what  is 
reckoned  a  very  sensible  woman — which  generally 
means,  a  very  disagreeable,  obstinate,  illiberal  director 
of  all  men,  women,  and  children — a  sort  of  superin- 
tendent of  all  actions,  time,  and  place — with  unques- 
tioned authority  to  arraign,  judge,  and  condemn  upon 
the  statutes  of  her  own  supposed  sense.  Most  country 
parishes  have  their  sensible  woman,  who  lays  doAvn 
the  law  on  all  affairs,  spiritual  and  temporal.  Miss 
Jacky  stood  unrivalled  as  the  sensible  woman  of 
Glenfern.  She  had  attained  this  eminence  partly 
from  having  a  little  more  understanding  than  her 
sisters,  but  principally  from  her  dictatorial  manner, 
and  the  pompous  decisive  tone  in  which  she  delivered 
the  most  commonplace  truths.  At  home  her  supremacy 
in  all  matters  of  sense  Avas  perfecth'  established ;  and 
thence  the  infection,  like  other  superstitions,  had 
spread  over  the  whole  neighbourhood.  As  sensible 
woman  she  regulated  the  family,  which  she  took  care 
to  let  everybody  see ;  she  was  conductor  of  her  nieces' 
education,  which  she  took  care  to  let  everybody  hear ; 
she  was  a  sort  of  postmistress  general — a  detector  of 
all  abuses  and  impositions ;  and  deemed  it  her  pre- 


104  MARRIAGE. 

rogative  to  be  consulted  about  all  the  useful  and  use- 
less things  which  everybody  else  could  have  done  as 
well.  She  was  liberal  of  her  advice  to  the  poor, 
always  enforcing  upon  them  the  iniquity  of  idleness, 
but  doing  nothing  for  them  in  the  way  of  employment 
— strict  economy  being  one  of  the  many  points  in  which 
she  was  particulaiiy  sensible.  The  consequence  was, 
while  she  w^as  lecturing  half  the  poor  women  in  the 
parish  for  their  idleness,  the  bread  was  kept  out  of 
their  mouths  by  the  incessant  carding  of  wool  and 
knitting  of  stockings,  and  spinning,  and  reeling,  and 
windijig,  and  pirning,  that  went  on  amongst  the 
ladies  themselves.  And,  by- the -bye.  Miss  Jacky  is 
not  the  only  sensible  woman  who  thinks  she  is  acting 
a  meritorious  part  when  she  converts  what  ought  to 
be  the  portion  of  the  poor  into  the  employment  of 
tiie  affluent. 

In  short,  Miss  Jacky  was  all  over  sense.  A  skilful 
physiognomist  would,  at  a  single  glance,  have  detected 
the  sensible  woman,  in  the  erect  head,  the  compressed 
lips,  square  elbows,  and  firm  judicious  step.  Even 
lier  very  garments  seemed  to  partake  of  the  prevailing 
character  of  their  mistress  :  her  ruff  always  looked 
more  sensible  than  any  other  body's ;  her  shawl  sat 
most  sensibly  on  her  shoulders ;  her  walking  shoes 
were  acknowledged  to  be  very  sensible ;  and  she 
drew  on  her  gloves  with  an  air  of  sense,  as  if  the  one 
arm  had  been  Seneca,  the  other  Socrates.  From 
what  has  been  said  it  may  easily  be  inferred  that 
Miss  Jacky  was  in  fact  anything  but  a  sensible  woman ; 


MAEEIAGE.  105 

as  indeed  no  woman  can  be  who  bears  such  visible 
outward  marks  of  what  is  in  reality  the  most  quiet 
and  unostentatious  of  all  good  qualities.  But  there 
is  a  spurious  sense,  which  passes  equally  well  with 
the  multitude ;  it  is  easily  assumed,  and  still  more 
easily  maintained  ;  common  truths  and  a  grave  dicta- 
torial air  being  all  that  is  necessary  for  its  support. 

Miss  Grizzy's  character  will  not  admit  of  so  long 
a  commentary  as  that  of  her  sister.  She  was  merely 
distinguishable  from  nothing  by  her  simple  good 
nature,  the  inextricable  entanglement  of  her  thoughts, 
her  love  of  letter -writing,  and  her  friendship  with 
Lady  Maclaughlan.  Miss  Nicky  had  about  as  much 
sense  as  Miss  Jacky ;  but,  as  no  kingdom  can  main- 
tain two  kings,  so  no  family  can  admit  of  two  sensible 
women ;  and  Nicky  was  therefore  obliged  to  confine 
hers  to  the  narrowest  possible  channels  of  housekeep- 
ing, mantua-making,  etc.,  and  to  sit  down  for  life  (or 
at  least  till  Miss  Jacky  should  be  married)  with  the 
dubious  character  of  "not  wanting  for  sense  either." 
With  all  these  little  peccadilloes  the  sisters  possessed 
some  good  properties.  They  were  well-meaning, 
kind-hearted,  and,  upon  the  whole,  good-tempered; 
they  loved  one  another,  revered  their  brother,  doated 
upon  their  nephews  and  nieces,  took  a  hvely  interest 
in  the  poorest  of  their  poor  cousins,  a  hundred  degrees 
removed,  and  had  a  firm  conviction  of  the  perfecti- 
bility of  human  nature,  as  exemplified  in  the  persons 
of  all  their  own  friends.  "  Even  their  failings  leaned 
to  virtue's  side  ;"  for  whatever  they  did  was  with  the 


106  MARRIAGE. 

intention  of  doing  good,  though  the  means  they  made 
use  of  generally  produced  an  opposite  effect.  But 
there  are  so  many  Miss  Douglases  in  the  world,  that 
doubtless  every  one  of  my  readers  is  as  well  acquainted 
with  them  as  I  am  myself.  I  shall  therefore  leave 
them  to  finish  the  picture  according  to  their  own 
ideas,  while  I  return  to  the  parlour,  where  the  worthy 
spinsters  are  seated  in  expectation  of  the  arrival  of 
their  friend. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

"  Though  both 
Not  equal,  as  their  sex  not  equal  seemed— 
For  contemplation  he,  and  valour  formed  ; 
For  softness  she,  and  sweet  attractive  grace." 

Milton. 

"  What  can  have  come  over  Lady  Maclaughlan  ?"  said 
Miss  Grizzy,  as  she  sat  at  the  windoAv  in  a  dejected 
attitude. 

"  I  think  I  hear  a  carriage  at  last,"  cried  Miss 
Jacky,  turning  up  her  ears.     "  Wisht !  let  us  listen," 

"  It's  only  the  wind,"  sighed  Miss  Grizzy. 

"It's  the  cart  with  the  bread,"  said  Miss  Nicky. 

"  It's  Lady  Maclaughlan,  I  assure  you,"  pronounced 
Miss  Jacky. 

The  heavy  rumble  of  a  ponderous  vehicle  now 
proclaimed  the  approach  of  the  expected  visitor ; 
which  pleasing  anticipation  was  soon  changed  into 
blissful  certainty  by  the  approach  of  a  high-roofed, 
square -bottomed,  pea-green  chariot,  drawn  by  two 
long-tailed  white  horses,  and  followed  by  a  lackey  in 
the  Highland  garb.  Out  of  this  equipage  issued  a 
figure,  clothed  in  a  hght-coloured,  large-flowered  chintz 
raiment,  carefully  drawn  through   the  pocket -holes, 


108  MARRIAGE. 

either  for  its  own  preservation,  or  the  more  disinter- 
ested purpose  of  displaying  a  dark  short  stuff  petticoat, 
which,  with  the  same  liberality,  afforded  ample  scope 
for  the  survey  of  a  pair  of  worsted  stockings  and  black 
leather  shoes,  something  resembling  buckets.  A 
faded  red  cloth  jacket,  which  bore  evident  marks  of 
having  been  severed  from  its  native  skirts,  now  acted 
in  the  capacity  of  a  spencer.  On  the  head  rose  a 
stupendous  fabric,  in  the  form  of  a  cap,  on  the  summit 
of  which  was  placed  a  black  beaver  hat,  tied  a  la  pois- 
sarde.  A  small  black  satin  muff  in  one  hand,  and  a 
gold-headed  walking-stick  in  the  other,  completed  the 
dress  and  decoration  of  this  personage. 

The  lackey,  meanwhile,  advanced  to  the  carriage ; 
and,  putting  in  both  his  hands,  as  if  to  catch  some- 
thing, he  pulled  forth  a  small  bundle,  enveloped  in  a 
military  cloak,  the  contents  of  which  would  have  baffled 
conjecture,  but  for  the  large  cocked  hat  and  little 
booted  leg  which  protruded  at  opposite  extremities. 

A  loud  but  slow  and  well-modulated  voice  now 
resounded  through  the  narrow  stone  passage  that  con- 
ducted to  the  drawing-room. 

"  Bring  him  in — bring  him  in,  Philistine  !  I 
always  call  my  man  Philistine,  because  he  has  Samp- 
son in  his  hands.  Set  him  down  there,"  pointing  to 
an  easy  chair,  as  the  group  now  entered,  headed  by 
Lady  Maclaughlan. 

"Well,  girls!"  addressing  the  venerable  spinsters, 
as  they  severally  exchanged  a  tender  salute;  "so 
you're  all  alive,  I  see ; — humph !" 


MARRIAGE.  109 

"Dear  Lady  Maclaughlan,  allow  me  to  introduce 
our  beloved  niece,  Lady  Juliana  Douglas,"  said  IVIiss 
Grizzy,  leading  her  up,  and  bridling  as  she  spoke 
with  ill-suppressed  exultation. 

"  So — you're  very  pretty — yes,  you  are  very 
pretty  ! "  kissing  the  forehead,  cheeks,  and  chin  of 
the  youthful  beauty  between  every  pause.'  Then, 
holding  her  at  arm's  length,  she  surveyed  her  from 
head  to  foot,  with  elevated  brows,  and  a  broad  fixed 
stare. 

"Pray  sit  down.  Lady  Maclaughlan,"  cried  her 
three  friends  all  at  once,  each  tendering  a  chair. 

"Sit  down!"  repeated  she;  "why,  what  should  I 
sit  do\vn  for  1  I  choose  to  stand — I  don't  like  to  sit 
— I  never  sit  at  home— do  I,  Sir  Sampson?"  turning 
to  the  little  warrior,  who,  having  been  seized  with  a 
violent  fit  of  coughing  on  his  entrance,  had  now  sunk 
back,  seemingly  quite  exhausted,  while  the  Philistine 
was  endeavouring  to  disencumber  him  of  his  military 
accoutrements. 

"How  very  distressing  Sir  Sampson's  cough  is!" 
said  the  sympathising  Miss  Grizzy. 

"Distressing,  child!  No — it's  not  the  least  dis- 
tressing. How  can  a  thing  be  distressing  that  does 
no  harm  ?  He's  much  the  better  of  it — it's  the  only 
exercise  he  gets." 

"  Oh  !  well,  indeed,  if  that's  the  case,  it  would  be  a 
thousand  pities  to  stop  it,"  replied  the  accommodating 
spinster. 

"No,  it  wouldn't  be  the  least  pity  to  stop  it!" 


110  MARRIAGE. 

returned  Lady  Maclaughlan,  in  her  loud  authoritative 
tone ;  "  because,  though  it's  not  distressing,  it's  very- 
disagreeable.  But  it  cannot  be  stopped — you  might 
as  well  talk  of  stopping  the  wind — it  is  a  cradle 
cough." 

"  My  dear  Lady  Maclaughlan  ! "  screamed  Sir 
Sampson  in  a  shrill  pipe,  as  he  made  an  effort  to 
raise  himself,  and  rescue  his  cough  from  this  asper- 
sion ;  "  how  can  you  persist  in  saying  so,  when  I  have 
told  you  so  often  it  proceeds  entirely  from  a  cold 
caught  a  few  years  ago,  when  I  attended  his  Majesty 

at "    Here  a  violent  relapse  carried  the  conclusion 

of  the  sentence  along  with  it. 

"Let  him  alone — don't  meddle  with  him,"  called 
his  lady  to  the  assiduous  nymphs  who  were  bustling 
aroiind  him ;  "  leave  him  to  PhiHstine ;  he's  in  very 
good  hands  when  he  is  in  Philistine's."  Then  resting 
her  chin  upon  the  head  of  her  stick,  she  resumed  her 
scrutiny  of  Lady  Juliana. 

"  You  really  are  a  pretty  creature  !  You've  got  a 
very  handsome  nose,  and  your  mouth's  very  well,  but 
I  don't  like  your  eyes  ;  they're  too  large  and  too  light ; 
they're  saucer  eyes,  and  I  don't  hke  saucer  eyes.  Why 
ha'nt  you  black  eyes  1  You're  not  a  bit  like  you're 
father — I  knew  him  very  well  Your  mother  was  an 
heiress ;  your  father  married  her  for  her  money,  and 
she  married  him  to  be  a  Countess ;  and  so  that's  the 
history  of  their  marriage — humph." 

This  well-bred  harangue  was  delivered  in  an  unvary- 
ing tone,  and  with  unmoved  muscles ;  for  though  the 


MARRIAGE.  Ill 

lady  seldom  failed  of  calling  forth  some  conspicuous 
emotion,  either  of  shame,  mirth,  or  anger,  on  the 
countenances  of  her  hearers,  she  had  never  been 
known  to  betray  any  correspondent  feelings  on  her 
own  ;  yet  her  features  were  finely  formed,  marked,  and 
expressive ;  and,  in  spite  of  her  ridiculous  dress  and 
eccentric  manners,  an  air  of  dignity  was  diffused  over 
her  whole  person,  that  screened  her  from  the  ridicule 
to  which  she  must  otherwise  have  been  exposed. 
Amazement  at  the  uncouth  garb  and  singular  address 
of  Lady  Maclaughlan  was  seldom  unmixed  with  terror 
at  the  stern  imperious  manner  that  accompanied  all 
her  actions.  Such  were  the  feelings  of  Lady  Juliana 
as  she  remained  subjected  to  her  rude  gaze  and  imper- 
tinent remarks. 

"My  Lady  !"  squeaked  Sir  Sampson  from  forth  his 
easy  chair. 

"  My  love  1"  interrogated  his  lady  as  she  leant  upon 
her  stick. 

"I  want  to  be  introduced  to  my  Lady  Juliana 
Douglas ;  so  give  me  your  hand,"  attempting,  at  the 
same  time,  to  emerge  from  the  huge  leathern  recep- 
tacle into  which  he  had  been  plunged  by  the  care  of 
the  kind  sisters. 

"  Oh,  pray  sit  still,  dear  Sir  Sampson,"  cried  they 
as  usual  all  at  once  ;  "  our  sweet  niece  will  come  to 
you,  don't  take  the  trouble  to  rise ;  pray  don't,"  each 
putting  a  hand  on  this  man  of  might,  as  he  was  half 
risen,  and  pushing  him  down. 

"Ay,  come  here,  my  dear,"  said  Lady  Maclaughlan; 


112  MARRIAGE^ 

"  you're  abler  to  walk  to  Sir  Sampson  than  he  to  you," 
pulling  Lady  Juliana  in  front  of  the  easy  chair; 
"  there — that's  her ;  you  see  she  is  very  pretty." 

"Zounds,  what  is  the  meaning  of  all  this?"  screamed 
the  enraged  baronet.  "  My  Lady  Juliana  Douglas,  I 
am  shocked  beyond  expression  at  this  freedom  of  my 
lady's.  I  beg  your  ladyship  ten  thousand  pardons ; 
pray  be  seated.  I'm  shocked ;  I  am  ready  to  faint  at 
the  impropriety  of  this  introduction,  so  contrary  to 
all  rules  of  etiquette.  How  could  you  behave  in  such 
a  manner,  my  Lady  Maclaughlan?" 

"  Why,  you  know,  my  dear,  your  legs  may  be  very 
good  legs,  but  they  can't  walk,"  rephed  she,  with  her 
usual  sang  froid. 

"My  Lady  Maclaughlan,  you  perfectly  confound 
me,"  stuttering  with  rage.  "  My  Lady  Juliana 
Douglas,  see  here,"  stretching  out  a  meagre  shank,  to 
which  not  even  the  military  boot  and  large  spur  could 
give  a  respectable  appearance :  "  You  see  that  leg 
strong  and  straight,"  stroking  it  down;  "now,  be- 
hold the  fate  of  war!"  dragging  forward  the  other, 
which  was  shrunk  and  shrivelled  to  almost  one  half 
its  original  dimensions.  "  These  legs  were  once  the 
same ;  but  I  repine  not — I  sacrificed  it  in  a  noble 
cause  :  to  that  leg  my  Sovereign  owes  his  life  ! " 

"  Well,  I  declare,  I  had  no  idea ;  I  thought  always 
it  had  been  rheumatism,"  burst  from  the  lips  of  the 
astonished  spinsters,  as  they  crowded  round  the  illus- 
trious limb,  and  regarded  it  with  looks  of  veneration. 

"Humph  !"  emphatically  uttered  his  lady. 


MARRIAGE.  113 

*'  The  story's  a  simple  one,  ladies,  and  soon  told  :  I 
happened  to  be  attending  his  Majesty  at  a  review  ;  I 

was  then  aid-de-camp  to  Lord .     His  horse  took 

fright,  I — I — I," — here,  in  spite  of  all  the  eflforts  that 
could  be  made  to  suppress  it,  the  royal  cough  burst 
forth  with  a  violence  that  thre-itened  to  silence  its 
brave  owner  for  ever. 

"It's  very  strange  you  will  talk,  my  love,"  said  his 
sympathising  lady,  as  she  supported  him  ;  "  talking 
never  did,  nor  never  will  agree  with  you;  it's  very 
strange  what  pleasure  people  take  in  talking — 
humph!" 

"  Is  there  anything  dear  Sir  Sampson  could  take  ?" 
asked  Miss  Grizzy. 

"  Could  take  1  I  don't  know  what  you  mean  by 
could  take.  He  couldn't  take  the  moon,  if  you  mean 
that ;  but  he  must  take  what  I  give  him ;  so  call 
Philistine ;  he  knows  where  my  cough  tincture  is." 

"  Oh,  we  have  plenty  of  it  in  this  press,"  said  Miss 
Grizzy,  flying  to  a  cupboard,  and,  dra\Wng  forth  a 
bottle,  she  poured  out  a  bumper,  and  presented  it 
to  Sir  Sampson. 

"  I'm  poisoned ! "  gasped  he  feebly ;  "  that's  not 
my  lady's  cough-tincture." 

"Not  cough-tincture  !"  repeated  the  horror-struck 
doctress,  as  for  the  first  time  she  examined  the  label  ; 
"  Oh  !  I  declare,  neither  it  is — it's  my  ovm  stomach 
lotion.  Bless  me,  what  will  be  done  ?"  and  she  wrung 
her  hands  in  despair.  "Oh,  Murdoch,"  flying  to  the 
Philistine^  as  he  entered  with  the  real  cough-tincture, 

VOL.  I.  I  Ji. 


114  MAREIAGE. 

"  I've  given  Sir  Sampson  a  dose  of  my  own  stomach 
lotion  by  mistake,  and  I  am  terrified  for  the  con- 
sequences ! " 

"  Oo,  but  hur  need  na  be  feared,  hur  will  no  be  a 
hair  the  war  o't ;  for  hurs  wad  na  tak'  the  feesick 
that  the  leddie  ordered  hur  yestreen." 

"Well,  I  declare  things  are  wisely  ordered,"  ob- 
served Miss  Grizzy ;  "in  that  case  it  may  do  dear 
Sir  Sampson  a  great  deal  of  good." 

Just  as  this  pleasing  idea  was  suggested,  Douglas 
and  his  father  entered,  and  the  ceremony  of  present- 
ing her  nephew  to  her  friend  was  performed  by  Miss 
Grizzy  in  her  most  conciliating  manner. 

"Dear  Lady  Maclaughlan,  this  is  our  nephew 
Henry,  who,  I  know,  has  the  highest  veneration  for 
Sir  Sampson  and  you.  Henry,  I  assure  you.  Lady 
Maclaughlan  takes  the  greatest  interest  in  everything 
that  concerns  Lady  Juliana  and  you." 

"Humph  !"  rejoined  her  ladyship,  as  she  surveyed 
him  from  head  to  foot.  "  So  your  wife  fell  in  love 
with  you,  it  seems ;  well,  the  more  fool  she  ;  I  never 
knew  any  good  come  of  love  marriages." 

Douglas  coloured,  while  he  affected  to  laugh  at  this 
extraordinary  address,  and  withdrawing  himself  from 
her  scrutiny,  resumed  his  station  by  the  side  of  his 
Juliana. 

"  Now,  girls,  I  must  go  to  my  toilet ;  which  of  you 
am  I  to  have  for  my  handmaid  V 

"Oh,  we'll  all  go,"  eagerly  exclaimed  the  three 
nymphs ;  "  our  dear  niece  will  excuse  us  for  a  httle  ; 


MAKRIAGE.  115 

young  people  are  never  at  a  loss  to  amiiso  one  an- 
other." 

"Venus  and  the  Graces,  by  Jove !"  exclaimed  Sir 
Sampson,  bowing  witli  an  air  of  gallantry ;  "  and  now 
I  must  go  and  adonise  a  little  myself." 

The  company  then  separated  to  perform  the  im- 
portant offices  of  the  toilet. 


CHAPTER  X. 

"  Nature  here 
Wanton'd  as  in  her  prime,  and  played  at  will 
Her  virgin  fancies." 

Milton. 

The  gentlemen  were  already  assembled  round  the 
drawing-room  fire,  impatiently  waiting  the  hour  of 
dinner,  when  Lady  Maclaughlan  and  her  three  friends 
entered.  The  masculine  habiliments  of  the  morning 
had  been  exchanged  for  a  more  feminine  costume. 
She  was  now  arrayed  in  a  pompadour  satin  n4gligie, 
and  petticoat  trimmed  with  Brussels  lace.  A  high 
starched  handkerchief  formed  a  complete  breastwork, 
on  which,  amid  a  large  bouquet  of  truly  artificial  re  ses, 
reposed  a  miniature  of  Sir  Sampson,  a  la  milifaire. 
A  small  fly  cap  of  antique  lace  was  scarcely  percep- 
tible on  the  summit  of  a  stupendous  frizzled  toupee, 
hemmed  in  on  each  side  by  large  curls.  The  muff 
and  stick  had  been  relinquished  for  a  large  fan,  some- 
thing resembling  an  Indian  screen,  which  she  waved 
to  and  fro  in  one  hand,  Avhile  a  vast  brocaded  work- 
bag  was  suspended  from  the  other. 

"  So,  Major  Douglas,  your  servant,"  said  she,  in 
answer  to  the  constrained  formal  bow  with  which  he 


MARRIAGE.  117 

saluted  her  on  her  entrance.  "  Why,  it's  so  long  since 
I've  seen  you  that  you  may  be  a  grandfather  for 
ought  I  know." 

The  poor  awkward  Misses  at  that  moment  came 
sneaking  into  the  room  :  "  As  for  you,  girls,  you'll 
never  be  grandmothers ;  you'll  never  be  married,  unless 
to  wild  men  of  the  woods.  I  suppose  you'd  like  that; 
it  would  save  you  the  trouble  of  combing  your  hair, 
and  tying  your  shoes,  for  then  you  could  go  without 
clothes  altogether — humph !  You'd  be  much  better 
without  clothes  than  to  put  them  on  as  you  do," 
seizing  upon  the  luckless  Miss  Baby,  as  she  endea- 
voured to  steal  behind  backs. 

And  here,  in  justice  to  the  lady,  it  must  be  owned 
that,  for  once,  she  had  some  grounds  for  animadversion 
in  the  dress  and  appearance  of  the  Misses  Douglas. 

They  had  stayed  out,  running  races  and  riding  on 
a  pony,  until  near  the  dinner  hour ;  and,  dreading 
their  father's  displeasure  should  they  be  too  late,  they 
had,  with  the  utmost  haste,  exchanged  their  thick 
morning  dresses  for  thin  muslin  gowns,  made  by  a 
mantuamaker  of  the  neighbourhood  in  the  extreme  of 
a  two-3'ear-old  fashion,  when  waists  icere  not. 

But  as  dame  Nature  had  been  particularly  lavish 
m  the  length  of  theirs,  and  the  staymaker  had, 
according  to  their  aunt's  direction,  given  them  full 
measure  of  their  new  dark  stays,  there  existed  a  visible 
breach  between  the  waists  of  their  gowns  and  the 
bands  of  their  petticoats,  which  they  had  vainly  sought 
to  adjust  by  a  meeting.     Their  hair  had  been  curled. 


118  MARRIAGE. 

but  not  combed,  and  dark  gloves  had  been  hastily- 
drawn  on  to  hide  red  arms. 

"I  suppose,"  continued  the  stern  Lady  Maclaugh- 
lan,  as  she  twirled  her  victim  round  and  round ;  "  I 
suppose  you  think  yourself  vastly  smart  and  well 
dressed.  Yes,  you  are  very  neat,  very  neat  indeed ; 
one  would  suppose  Ben  Jonson  had  you  in  his  eye 
when  he  composed  that  song."  Then  in  a  voice  like 
thunder,  she  chanted  forth — 

"  Give  me  a  look,  give  me  a  face 
That  makes  simplicity  a  grace  ; 
Eobes  loosely  flowing,  hair  as  free, 
Such  sweet  neglect  more  taketh  me.** 

Miss  Grizzy  was  in  the  utmost  perplexity  between 
her  inclination  to  urge  something  in  extenuation  for 
the  poor  girls,  and  her  fear  of  dissenting  from  Lady 
Maclaughlan,  or  rather  of  not  immediately  agreeing 
with  her ;  she  therefore  steered,  as  usual,  the  middle 
course,  and  kept  saying,  "  Well,  children,  really  what 
Lady  Maclaughlan  says  is  all  very  true ;  at  the  same 
time" — turning  to  her  friend — "  I  declare  it's  not  much 
to  be  wondered  at ;  young  people  are  so  thoughtless, 
poor  lambs ! " 

"What's  aw  this  wark  aboot?"  said  the  old  gentle- 
man angrily ;  "  the  girlies  are  weel  eneugh ;  I  see 
naething  the  matter  wi'  them  ;  they're  no  dressed  like 
auld  queens  or  stage  -  actresses ;"  and  he  glanced  his 
eye  from  Lady  Maclaughlan  to  his  elegant  daughter- 
in-law,  who  just  then  entered,  hanging,  according  to 
custom,   on    her  husband,  and   preceded   by  Cupid. 


MAREIAGE.  119 

Mrs.  Douglas  followed,  and  the  sound  of  the  dinner 
bell  put  a  stop  to  the  dispute. 

"Come,  my  leddie,  we'll  see  how  the  dinner's 
dressed,  said  the  Laird,  as  he  seized  Lady  Maclaugh- 
lan  by  the  tip  of  the  finger,  and  holding  it  up  aloft, 
they  marched  into  the  dining-room. 

"Permit  me,  my  Lady  Juliana  Douglas,"  said  the 
little  Baronet,  with  much  difficulty  hobbling  towards 
her,  and  attempting  to  take  her  hand.  "  Come,  Harry, 
love;  here,  Cupid,"  cried  she;  and  without  noticing 
the  enraged  Sir  Sampson,  she  passed  on,  humming  a 
tune,  and  leaning  upon  her  husband. 

"Astonishing!  pex'fectly  astonishing!"  exclaimed 
the  Baronet;  "how  a  young  woman  of  Lady  Juliana's 
rank  and  fashion  should  be  guilty  of  such  a  solecism 
in  good  breeding." 

"  She  is  very  young,"  said  ]\Irs.  Douglas,  smiling, 
as  he  limped  along  with  her,  "and  you  must  make 
allowances  for  her ;  but,  indeed,  I  think  her  beauty 
must  ever  be  a  suflicient  excuse  for  any  little  errors 
she  may  commit  with  a  person  of  such  taste  and  gal- 
lantry as  Sir  Sampson  Maclaughlan." 

The  little  Baronet  smiled,  pressed  the  hand  he 
held ;  and,  soothed  by  the  vrell-timed  compliment,  he 
seated  himself  next  to  Lady  Juliana  with  some  com- 
placency. As  she  insisted  on  having  her  husband  on 
the  other  side  of  her,  Mr.  Douglas  was  condemned  to 
take  his  station  by  the  hated  Lady  Maclaughlan,  who, 
for  the  first  time  observing  Mrs.  Douglas,  called  to 
her — 


120  MARRIAGE. 

"  Come  here,  my  love;  I  haven't  seen  you  these  hun- 
dred years;"  then  seizing  her  face  between  her  hands, 
she  sahited  her  in  the  usual  style.  "  There,"  at  length 
releasing  Mrs.  Douglas  from  her  gripe — "  there's  for 
you  !  I  love  you  very  much  ;  you're  neither  a  fool 
nor  a  hoyden ;  you're  a  fine  intelligent  being. " 

Having  carefulh^  rolled  up  and  deposited  her  gloves 
in  her  pocket,  she  pulled  out  a  pin-cushion,  and  calling 
Miss  Bella,  desired  her  to  pin  her  napkin  over  her 
shoulders ;  which  done,  she  began  to  devour  her  soup 
in  silence. 

Peace  was,  however,  of  short  duration.  Old 
Donald,  in  removing  a  dish  of  whipt  cream,  unfor- 
tunately overturned  one  upon  Lady  Maclaughlan's 
pompadour  satin  jietticoat — the  only  part  of  her  dress 
that  was  unprotected. 

"  Do  you  see  what  you  have  done,  you  old  Donald, 
youf  cried  she,  seizing  the  culprit  by  the  sleeve; 
"why,  you've  got  St.  Vitus 's  dance.  A  fit  hand  to 
carry  whipt  cream,  to  be  sure !  Why,  I  could  as 
well  carry  a  custard  on  the  point  of  a  bayonet — 
humph  ! " 

"  Dear  me,  Donald,  how  could  you  be  so  senseless  V 
cried  Miss  Jacky. 

"Preserve  me,  Donald,  I  thought  you  had  more 
sense  ! "  squeaked  Miss  Nicky. 

"I  am  sure,  Donald,  that  was  na  like  you!"  said 
Miss  Grizzy,  as  the  friends  all  flocked  around  the 
petticoat,  each  suggesting  a  different  remedy. 

"It's  all  of  you,  girls,  that   this  has   happened. 


MARRIAGE.  121 

Why  can't  you  have  a  larger  tablecloth  upon  your 
table  !  And  that  old  man  has  the  palsy.  Why  don't 
you  electrify  him?"  in  a  tone  admirably  calculated 
to  have  that  effect. 

"I  declare,  it's  all  very  true,"  observed  Miss 
Grizzy ;  "  the  tablecloth  is  very  small,  and  Donald 
certainly  does  shake,  that  cannot  be  denied;"  but, 
lowering  her  voice,  "he  is  so  obstinate,  we  really 
don't  know  what  to  do  with  him.  My  sisters  and  I 
attempted  to  use  the  flesh-brush  with  him." 

"  Oh,  and  an  excellent  thing  it  is ;  I  make  Philis- 
tine rub  Sir  Sampson  every  morning  and  night.  If 
it  was  not  for  that  and  his  cough,  nobody  would  know 
whether  he  were  dead  or  alive ;  I  don't  believe  he 
would  know  himself — humph  ! " 

Sir  Sampson's  lemon  face  assumed  an  orange  hue 
as  he  overheard  this  domestic  detail ;  but  not  daring 
to  contradict  the  facts,  he  prudently  turned  a  deaf 
ear  to  them,  and  attempted  to  carry  on  a  flirtation 
with  Lady  Juliana  through  the  medium  of  Cupid, 
whom  he  had  coaxed  upon  his  knee. 

Dinner  being  at  length  ended,  toasts  succeeded  : 
and  each  of  the  ladies  having  given  her  favourite 
laird,  the  signal  of  retreat  was  given,  and  a  general 
movement  took  place. 

Lady  Juliana,  throwing  herself  upon  a  sofa  with 
her  pugs,  called  Mrs.  Douglas  to  her.  "  Do  sit  down 
here  and  talk  with  me,"  yawned  she. 

Her  sister-in-law,  with  great  good-humour,  fetched 
her  work,  and  seated  herself  by  the  spoilt  child. 


1 22  MARRIAGE. 

"What  strange  thing  is  that  you  are  making?" 
asked  she,  as  Mrs.  Douglas  pulled  out  her  knitting. 

"  It's  a  child's  stocking,"  replied  her  sister-in-law. 

"A  child's  stocking!  Oh,  by -the -bye,  have  you 
a  great  many  children  V 

"  I  have  none,"  answered  Mrs.  Douglas,  with  a 
half-stifled  sigh. 

"None  at  alH"  repeated  Lady  Juliana,  with  sur- 
prise ;  "  then,  why  do  you  make  children's  stockings  V 

"I  make  them  for  those  whose  parents  cannot 
afford  to  purchase  them." 

"  La  !  what  poor  wretches  they  must  be,  that  can't 
afford  to  buy  stockings,"  rejoined  Lady  Juliana,  with 
a  yawn.  "  It's  monstrous  good  of  you  to  make  them, 
to  be  sure ;  but  it  must  be  a  shocking  bore  !  and  such 
a  trouble  ! "  and  another  long  yawn  succeeded. 

"Not  half  such  a  bore  to  me  as  to  sit  idle,"  re- 
turned Mrs.  Douglas,  with  a  smile,  "nor  near  so 
much  trouble  as  you  undergo  with  your  favourites." 

Lady  Juliana  made  no  reply,  but  turning  from  her 
sister-in-law,  soon  was,  or  affected  to  be,  sound  asleep, 
from  which  she  was  only  roused  by  the  entrance  of 
the  gentlemen.  "A  rubber  or  a  reel,  my  Leddiel" 
asked  the  Laird,  going  up  to  his  daughter-in-law. 

"  Julia,  love,"  said  her  husband,  "  my  father  asks 
you  if  you  choose  cards  or  dancing." 

"  There's  nobody  to  dance  with,"  said  she,  casting 
a  languid  glance  around  ;  "  I'll  play  at  cards." 

"  Not  whist,  surely  !  "  said  Henry. 

"Whist!     Oh,  heavens,  no." 


MARRIAGE.  123 

"Weel,  weel,  you  j^oungsters  will  get  a  roi;nd 
game ;  come,  my  Leddy  Maclaughlan,  Grizzy,  Mrs, 
Douglas,  hey  for  the  odd  trick  and  the  honours  ! " 

"What  would  your  Ladyship  choose  to  play  atl" 
asked  Miss  Jacky,  advancing  with  a  pack  of  cards  in 
one  hand,  and  a  box  of  counters  in  the  other. 

"  Oh,  anything ;  I  like  loo  very  well,  or  quadrille, 
or — I  really  don't  care  what." 

The  Misses,  who  had  gathered  round,  and  were 
standing  gaping  in  joyful  expectation  of  Pope  Joan, 
or  a  pool  at  commerce,  here  exchanged  sorrowful 
glances. 

"I  am  afraid  the  young  people  don't  play  these 
games,"  replied  Miss  Jacky ;  "  but  we've  counters 
enough,"  shaking  her  little  box,  "for  Pope  Joan,  and 
we  all  know  that." 

"Pope  Joan!  I  never  heard  of  such  a  game," 
replied  Lady  Juliana. 

"Oh,  we  can  soon  learn  you,"  said  Miss  Nicky, 
who  having  spread  the  green  cloth  on  the  tea-table, 
now  advanced  to  join  the  consultation. 

"I  hate  to  be  taught,"  said  Lady  Juliana,  with  a 
yawn;  "besides,  I  am  sure  it  must  be  something 
very  stupid." 

"Ask  if  she  plays  commerce,"  whispered  Miss 
Bella  to  Miss  Baby. 

The  question  was  put,  but  ^vntli  no  better  success, 
and  the  young  ladies'  faces  again  bespoke  their  dis- 
appointment, which  their  brother  observing,  he  good- 
naturedly  declared  his  perfect  knowledge  of  commerce ; 


124  MARRIAGE. 

"  and  I  must  insist  upon  teaching  you,  Juliana,"  gently 
dragging  her  to  the  table. 

"  What's  the  pool  to  be  ? "  asked  one  of  the  young 
ladies. 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  know,"  said  the  aunts,  looking 
to  each  other. 

"  I  suppose  we  must  make  it  sixpence,"  said  Miss 
Jacky,  after  a  whispering  consultation  with  her 
sister. 

"  In  that  case  we  can  afford  nothing  to  the  best 
hand,"  observed  Miss  Nicky. 

"And  we  ought  to  have  five  lives  and  grace," 
added  one  of  the  nieces. 

These  points  having  been  conceded,  the  prelimin- 
aries were  at  length  settled.  The  cards  were  slowly 
doled  out  by  Miss  Jacky ;  and  Lady  Juliana  was  care- 
fully instructed  in  the  rules  of  the  game,  and  strongly 
recommended  always  to  try  for  a  sequence,  or  pairs, 
etc.  "  And  if  you  win,"  rejoined  Miss  Nicky,  shaking 
the  snuffer-stand  in  which  were  deposited  the  sixpences, 
**  you  get  all  this. " 

As  may  be  conjectured.  Lady  Juliana's  patience 
could  not  survive  more  than  one  life ;  she  had  no 
notion  of  playing  for  sixpences,  and  could  not  be  at 
the  trouble  to  attend  to  any  instructions ;  she  there- 
fore quickly  retired  in  disgust,  leaving  the  aunts  and 
nieces  to  struggle  for  the  glorious  prize.  "  My  dear 
child,  you  played  that  last  stroke  like  a  perfect 
natural,"  cried  Lady  Maclaughlan  to  Miss  Grizzy,  as, 
the  rubber  ended,  they  arose  from  the  table. 


MAEKIAGE.  125 

"Indeed,  I  declare,  I  daresay  I  did,"  rejjlied  her 
friend  in  a  deprecating  tone. 

"  Daresay  3'ou  did  !  I  know  you  did — humph  !  I 
knew  the  ace  lay  with  you ;  I  knew  that  as  well  as  if 
I  had  seen  it.  I  suppose  you  have  eyes — but  1  don't 
know ;  if  you  have,  didn't  you  see  Glenfern  turn  up 
the  king,  and  yet  you  returned  his  lead — returned 
your  adversary's  lead  in  the  face  of  his  king.  I've 
been  telling  you  these  twenty  years  not  to  return 
your  adversary's  lead ;  nothing  can  be  more  despi- 
cable ;  nothing  can  be  a  greater  proof  of  imbecility 
of  mind — humph  ! "  Then,  seating  herself,  she  began 
to  exercise  her  fan  with  considerable  activity.  "  This 
has  been  the  most  disagreeable  day  I  ever  spent  in 
this  house,  girls.  I  don't  know  what's  come  over 
you,  but  you  are  all  wrong ;  my  petticoat's  ruined ; 
my  pockets  picked  at  cards.  It  won't  do,  girls ;  it 
won't  do — humph  !  " 

"  I  am  sure  I  can't  understand  it,"  said  Miss  Grizzy 
in  a  rueful  accent ;  "  there  really  appears  to  have  been 
some  fatality." 

"  Fatality ! — humph !  I  "wish  you  would  give  every- 
thing its  right  name,    ^^^lat  do  you  mean  by  fatality  V 

"I  declare — lam  sure — I— I  really  don't  know," 
stammered  the  unfortunate  Grizzy. 

"Do  you  mean  that  the  spilling  of  the  custard  was 
the  work  of  an  angcU"  demanded  her  unrelenting 
friend. 

"Oh,  certainly  not." 

"  Or  that  it  was  the  devil  tempted  you  to  throw 


126  MAREIAGE. 

away  your  ace  there  1  I  suppose  there's  a  fatality  in 
our  going  to  supper  just  now,"  continued  she,  as  her 
deep-toned  voice  resounded  through  the  passage  that 
conducted  to  the  dining-room ;  "and  I  suppose  it  will 
be  called  a  fatality  if  that  old  Fate,"  pointing  to 
Donald,  "  scalds  me  to  death  with  that  mess  of  por- 
ridge he's  going  to  put  on  the  table — humph  ! " 

No  such  fatality,  hoAvever,  occurred ;  and  the  rest 
of  the  evening  passed  off  in  as  much  harmony  as  could 
be  expected  from  the  very  heterogeneous  parts  of  which 
the  society  was  formed. 

The  family  group  had  already  assembled  round  the 
breakfast -table,  with  the  exception  of  Lady  Juliana, 
who  chose  to  take  that  meal  in  bed ;  but,  contrary  to 
her  usual  custom,  no  Lady  Maclaughlan  had  yet  made 
her  appearance. 

"  The  scones  will  be  like  leather,"  said  Miss  Grizzy, 
as  she  wrapped  another  napkin  round  them. 

"The  eggs  will  be  like  snoAvballs,"  cried  Miss 
Jacky,  popping  them  into  the  slop-basin. 

"The  tea  will  be  Hke  brandy,"  observed  Miss 
Nicky,  as  she  poured  more  water  to  the  three  tea- 
spoonfuls  she  had  infused. 

"  I  wish  we  saw  our  breakfast,"  said  the  Laird,  as 
he  finished  the  newspapers,  and  deposited  his  spec- 
tacles in  his  pocket. 

At  that  moment  the  door  opened,  and  the  person 
in  question  entered  in  her  travelling  dress,  followed 
by  Sir  Sampson,  Philistine  bringing  up  the  rear  with 
a  large  green  bag  and  a  little  band-box. 


MARRIAGE.  127 

"  I  hope  your  bed  was  warm  and  comfortable.  I 
hope  you  rested  well.  I  hope  Sir  Sampson's  quite 
well !"  immediately  burst  as  if  from  a  thousand  voices, 
while  the  sisters  ofi&ciously  fluttered  round  their  friend. 

"  I  rested  very  ill ;  my  bed  was  very  uncomfortable; 
and  Sir  Sampson's  as  sick  as  a  cat — humph !" 

Three  disconsolate  "Bless  me's  !"  here  burst  forth. 

"Perhaps  your  bed  was  too  hard?"  said  Miss 
Grizzy. 

"  Or  too  soft  V  suggested  Miss  Jacky. 

"Or  too  hoti"  added  Miss  Nicky. 

"  It  was  neither  too  hard,  nor  too  soft,  nor  too  hot, 
nor  too  cold,"  thimdered  the  Lady,  as  she  seated  her- 
self at  the  table ;  "but  it  was  all  of  them." 

"  I  declare,  that's  most  distressing,"  said  Miss 
Grizzy,  in  a  tone  of  sorrowful  amazement.  "  Was 
your  head  high  enough,  dear  Lady  Maclaughlan?" 

"  Perhaps  it  Avas  too  high,"  said  Miss  Jacky. 

"  I  know  nothing  more  disagreeable  than  a  high 
head,"  remarked  Miss  Nicky. 

"Except  a  fool's  head — humph  !" 

The  sound  of  a  carriage  here  set  all  ears  on  full 
stretch,  and  presently  the  well-known  pea-green  drew 
up. 

"Dear  me  !  Bless  me  !  Goodness  me  !"  shrieked 
the  three  ladies  at  once.  "  Surely,  Lady  Maclaugh- 
lan,  you  can't — you  don't — you  won't ;  this  must  be 
a  mistake." 

"  There's  no  mistake  in  the  matter,  girls,"  rephed 
their  friend,  with  her  accustomed  sang  froid.     "  I'm 


128  MARRIAGE. 

going  home ;  so  I  ordered  the  carriage ;  that's  all — 
humph  ! " 

"  Going  home  ! "  faintly  murmured  the  disconsolate 
spinsters. 

"What !  I  suppose  you  think  I  ought  to  stay  here 
and  have  another  petticoat  spoiled ;  or  lose  another 
half-crown  at  cards ;  or  have  the  finishing  stroke  put 
to  Sir  Sampson — humph  ! " 

"  Oh  !  Lady  Maclaughlan  !"  was  three  times  uttered 
in  reproachful  accents. 

"  I  don't  know  what  else  I  should  stay  for ;  you 
are  not  yourselves,  girls ;  you've  all  turned  topsy-turvy. 
I've  visited  here  these  twenty  years,  and  I  never  saw 
things  in  the  state  they  are  now — humph ! " 

"I  declare  it's  very  true,"  sighed  Miss  Grizzy; 
"  we  certainly  are  a  little  in  confusion,  that  can't  be 
denied." 

"Denied  !  Why,  can  you  deny  that  my  petticoat's 
ruined  1  Can  you  deny  that  my  pocket  was  picked 
of  half-a-crown  for  nothing  '?  Can  you  deny  that  Sir 
Sampson  has  been  half-poisoned  1  and " 

"My  Lady  Maclaughlan,"  interrupted  the  enraged 
husband,  "  I — I — I  am  surprised — I  am  shocked  ! 
Zounds,  my  Lady,  I  won't  suffer  this  !  I  cannot  stand 
it;"  and  pushing  his  tea-cup  awa}-,  he  arose,  and 
limped  to  the  window,  Philistine  here  entered  to 
inform  his  mistress  that  "  awthing  Av^as  ready." 
"Steady,  boys,  steady!  I  always  am  ready,"  re- 
sponded the  Lady  in  a  tone  adapted  to  the  song. 
*'  Now  I  am  ready  ;  say  nothing,  girls — you  know  my 


MARRIAGE.  129 

rules.  Here,  Philistine,  wrap  up  Sir  Sampson,  and 
put  him  in.  Get  along,  my  love.  Good-bye,  girls ; 
and  I  hope  you  will  all  be  restored  to  your  right  senses 
soon," 

"Oh,  Lady  Maclaughlan  ! "  whined  the  weeping 
Grizzy,  as  she  embraced  her  friend,  who,  somewhat 
melted  at  the  signs  of  her  distress,  bawled  out  from 
the  carriage,  as  the  door  was  shut,  "  Well,  God  bless 
you,  girls,  and  make  you  what  you  have  been ;  and 
come  to  Lochmarhe  Castle  soon,  and  bring  your  wits 
along  with  you." 

The  carriage  then  drove  off,  and  the  three  discon- 
solate sisters  returned  to  the  parlour  to  hold  a  cabinet 
council  as  to  the  causes  of  the  late  disasters. 


VOL.  L 


CHAPTEE  XL 

"  If  there  be  cure  or  cliarm 
To  respite  or  relieve,  or  slack  the  pain 
Of  this  ill  mansion." 

Milton. 

Time,  which  generally  alleviates  ordinary  distresses, 
served  only  to  augment  the  severity  of  Lady  Juliana's, 
as  day  after  day  rolled  heavily  on,  and  found  her  still 
an  inmate  of  Glenfern  Castle.  Destitute  of  every  re- 
source in  herself,  she  yet  turned  with  contempt  from  the 
scanty  sources  of  occupation  or  amusement  that  were 
suggested  by  others ;  and  Mrs.  Douglas's  attempts  to 
teach  her  to  play  at  chess  and  read  Shakespeare  were 
as  unsuccessful  as  the  endeavours  of  the  good  aunts  to 
persuade  her  to  study  Fordyce's  Sermons  and  make 
baby  linen. 

In  languid  dejection  or  fretful  repinings  did  the 
unhappy  beauty  therefore  consume  the  tedious  hours, 
while  her  husband  sought  alternateh''  to  soothe  with 
fondness  he  no  longer  felt,  or  flatter  with  hopes  which 
he  knew  to  be  groundless.  To  his  father  alone  could 
he  now  look  for  any  assistance,  and  from  him  he  was 
not  likely  to  obtain  it  in  the  form  he  desired ;  as  the 
old  gentleman  repeatedly  declared  his  utter  inability 


MAERIAGE.  131 

to  advance  him  any  ready  money,  or  to  allow  him 
more  than  a  hundred  a  year — moreover,  to  be  paid 
quarterly — a  sum  which  could  not  defray  their  ex- 
penses to  London. 

Such  was  the  state  of  affairs  when  the  Laird  one 
morning  entered  the  dining-room  with  a  face  of  much 
importance,  and  addressed  his  son  with,  "Weel, 
Harry,  you're  a  lucky  man ;  and  it's  an  ill  wind  that 
blaws  naebody  gude  :  here's  puir  Macglashan  gane  like 
snaw  aff  a  dyke." 

"  Macglashan  gone  ! "  exclaimed  Miss  Grizzy. 
"  Impossible,  brother ;  it  was  only  yesterday  I  sent 
him  a  bhster  for  his  back  ! " 

"And  I,"  said  Miss  Jacky,  "talked  to  him  for 
upwards  of  two  hours  last  night  on  the  impropriety 
of  his  allowing  his  daughter  to  wear  white  gowns  on 
Sunday." 

"By  my  troth,  an'  that  was  eneugh  to  kill  ony 
man,"  muttered  the  Laird. 

"  How  I  am  to  derive  any  benefit  from  this  import- 
ant demise  is  more  than  I  can  perceive,"  said  Henry 
in  a  somewhat  contemptuous  tone. 

"You  see,"  replied  his  father,  "  that  by  our  agree- 
ment his  farm  falls  vacant  in  consequence." 

"And  I  hope  I  am  to  succeed  to  it?"  replied  the 
son,  with  a  smile  of  derision. 

"  Exactly  !  By  my  faith,  but  you  have  a  bein 
downset.  There's  three  thousand  and  seventy-five 
acres  of  as  good  sheepwalk  as  any  in  the  whole 
country-side ;  and  I  shall  advance  you  stocking  and 


132  MARRIAGE. 

stedding,  and  everything  complete,  to  your  very  peat- 
stacks.  What  think  ye  of  that?"  slapping  his  son's 
shoidder,  and  rubbing  his  own  hands  with  delight  as 
he  spoke. 

Horrorstruck  at  a  scheme  which  appeared  to  him 
a  thousand  times  worse  than  anything  his  imagination 
had  ever  painted,  poor  Henry  stood  in  speechless 
consternation  ;  while  "  Charming  !  Excellent !  De- 
lightful ! "  was  echoed  by  the  aunts,  as  they  crowded 
round,  wishing  him  joy,  and  applauding  their  brother's 
generosity. 

"What  will  our  sweet  niece  say  to  this,  I  wonder?" 
said  the  innocent  Grizzy,  who  in  truth  wondered  none. 
"I  would  like  to  see  her  face  when  she  hears  it ;"  and 
her  own  was  puckered  into  various  shapes  of  delight. 

"I  have  no  doubt  but  her  good  sense  will  teach 
her  to  appreciate  properly  the  blessings  of  her  lot," 
observed  the  more  reflecting  Jacky. 

"She  has  had  her  own  good  luck,"  quoth  the 
sententious  Nicky,  "to  find  such  a  downset  all  cut 
and  dry." 

At  that  instant  the  door  opened,  and  the  favoured 
individual  in  question  entered.  In  vain  Douglas 
strove  to  impose  silence  on  his  father  and  aunts.  The 
latter  sat,  bursting  with  impatience  to  break  out  into 
exclamation,  while  the  former,  advancing  to  his  fair 
daughter-in-law,  saluted  her  as  "Lady  Clackandow?" 
Then  the  torrent  burst  forth,  and,  stupefied  with  sur- 
prise, Lady  Juliana  suffered  herself  to  be  kissed  and 
hugged  by  the  whole  host  of  aunts  and  nieces,  while 


MAKRIAGE.  133 

the  very  walls  seemed  to  reverberate  the  shouts,  and 
the  pugs  and  mackaw,  who  never  failed  to  take  parfc 
in  every  commotion,  began  to  bark  and  scream  in 
chorus. 

The  old  gentleman,  clapping  his  hands  to  his  ears, 
rushed  out  of  the  room.  His  son,  cursing  his  aunts, 
and  everything  around  him,  kicked  Cupid,  and  gave 
the  mackaw  a  box  on  the  ear,  as  he  also  quitted  the 
apartment,  with  more  appearance  of  anger  than  he 
had  ever  yet  betrayed. 

The  tumult  at  length  began  to  subside.  The 
mackaw's  screams  gave  place  to  a  low  quivering  croak ; 
and  the  insulted  pug's  yells  yielded  to  a  gentle  whine. 
The  aunts'  obstreperous  joy  began  to  be  chastened 
with  fear  for  the  consequences  that  might  follow  an 
abrupt  disclosure ;  and,  while  Lady  Juliana  condoled 
with  her  favourites,  it  was  concerted  between  the 
prudent  aunts  that  the  joyful  news  should  be  broke 
to  their  niece  in  the  most  cautious  manner  possible. 
For  that  purpose  Misses  Grizzy  and  Jacky  seated 
themselves  on  each  side  of  her ;  and,  after  duly  pre- 
paring their  voices  by  sundry  small  hems,  Miss 
Grizzy  thus  began  : 

"  I'm  sure — I  declare — I  dare  say,  my  dear  Lady 
Juliana,  you  must  think  we  are  all  distracted." 

Her  auditor  made  no  attempt  to  contradict  the 
supposition. 

"  We  certainly  ought,  to  be  sure,  to  have  been 
more  cautious,  considering  your  delicate  situation ; 
but  the  joy — though,  indeed,  it  seems  cruel  to  say  so. 


134  MARRIAGE. 

And  I  am  sure  you  will  sympathise,  my  dear  niece, 
in  the  cause,  when  j-ou  hear  that  it  is  occasioned  l)y 
our  poor  neighbour  Macglashan's  death,  which,  I'm 
sure,  was  quite  unexpected.  Indeed,  I  declare  I  can't 
conceive  how  it  came  about ;  for  Lady  Maclaughlan, 
who  is  an  excellent  judge  of  these  things,  thought  he 
was  really  a  remarkably  stout-looking  man  for  his 
time  of  life ;  and  indeed,  except  occasional  colds, 
which  you  know  Ave  are  all  subject  to,  I  really  never 
knew  him  complain.     At  the  same  time " 

"  I  don't  think,  sister,  you  are  taking  the  right 
method  of  communicating  the  intelligence  to  our 
niece,"  said  Miss  Jacky. 

"  You  cannot  communicate  anything  that  would 
give  me  the  least  pleasure,  unless  you  could  tell  me 
that  I  was  going  to  leave  this  place,"  cried  Lady 
Juliana  in  a  voice  of  deep  despondency. 

"  Indeed  !  if  it  can  afford  your  Ladyship  so  much 
pleasure  to  be  at  liberty  to  quit  the  hospitable  mansion 
of  your  amiable  husband's  respectable  father,"  said 
Miss  Jacky,  with  an  inflamed  visage  and  outspread 
hands,  "  you  are  at  perfect  liberty  to  depart  Avhen  you 
think  proper.  The  generosity,  I  may  say  the  munifi- 
cence, of  my  excellent  brother,  has  now  put  it  in 
your  power  to  do  as  you  please,  and  to  form  your 
own  plans." 

"  Oh,  delightful ! "  exclaimed  Lady  Juliana,  starting 
up  ;  "  now  1  shall  be  quite  happy.  Where's  Harry  1 
Does  he  know  ?  Is  he  gone  to  order  the  carriage  1 
Can  we  get  away  to-day  f     And  she  was  flying  out 


MARRIAGE.  135 

of  the  room  when  Miss  Jacky  caught  her  by  one 
hand,  while  Miss  Grizzy  secured  the  other. 

"  Oh,  pray  don't  detain  me  !  I  must  find  Harry  ; 
and  I  have  all  my  things  to  put  up,"  struggling  to 
release  herself  from  the  gripe  of  the  sisters  ;  when  the 
door  opened,  and  Harry  entered,  eager,  yet  dreading 
to  know  the  eflfects  of  the  Maircissement.  His  surprise 
extreme  at  beholding  his  wife,  with  her  eyes  spark- 
ling, her  cheeks  glowing,  and  her  whole  countenance 
expressing  extreme  pleasure.  Darting  from  her 
keepers,  she  bounded  towards  him  with  the  wildest 
ejaculations  of  delight ;  while  he  stood  alternately 
gazing  at  her  and  his  aunts,  seeking  by  his  eyes  the 
explanation  he  feared  to  demand. 

"My  dearest  Juliana,  Avhat  is  the  meaning  of  all 
this?"  he  at  length  articulated. 

"  Oh,  you  cunning  thing !  So  you  think  I  don't 
know  that  your  father  has  given  you  a  great,  great 
quantity  of  money,  and  that  we  may  go  away  Avhenever 
we  please,  and  do  just  as  we  like,  and  live  in  London, 
and — and — oh,  delightful ! "  And  she  bounded  and 
skipped  before  the  e3^es  of  the  petrified  spinsters. 

"  In  the  name  of  heaven,  what  does  all  this  mean  1 " 
asked  Henry,  addressing  his  aunts,  who,  for  the  first 
time  in  their  lives,  were  struck  dumb  by  astonishment 
But  Miss  Jacky,  at  length  recollecting  herself,  turned 
to  Lady  Juliana,  who  was  still  testifying  her  delight 
by  a  variety  of  childish  but  graceful  movements,  and 
thus  addressed  her  : 

"  Permit  me  to  put  a  few  questions  to  your  Lady- 


136  MARUIAGE. 

ship,  in  prcyeiice  of  those  who  were  witnesses  of  what 
has  already  passed." 

"  Oh,  I  can't  endure  to  be  asked  questions ;  besides, 
I  have  no  time  to  answer  them." 

"  Your  Ladyship  must  excuse  me  ;  but  I  can't  per- 
mit you  to  leave  this  room  under  the  influence  of  an 
error.  Have  the  goodness  to  answer  me  the  following 
questions,  and  you  will  then  be  at  liberty  to  depart 
Did  I  inform  your  Ladyship  that  my  brother  had 
given  my  nephew  a  great  quantity  of  money  1" 

"  Oh  yes  !  a  great,  great  deal ;  I  don't  know  how 
much,  though " 

"  Did  I  ? "  returned  her  interrogator. 

"Come,  come,  have  done  with  all  this  confounded 
nonsense  !"  exclaimed  Henry  passionately.  "Do  you 
imagine  I  will  allow  Lady  Juliana  to  stand  here  all 
day,  to  answer  all  the  absurd  questions  that  come 
into  the  heads  of  three  old  women  1  You  stupefy 
and  bewilder  her  with  your  eternal  tattling  and 
roundabout  harangues."  And  he  paced  the  room 
in  a  paroxysm  of  rage,  while  his  wife  suspended  her 
dancing,  and  stood  in  breathless  amazement. 

"I  declare— I'm  sure — it's  a  thousand  pities  that 
there  should  have  been  any  mistake  made,"  whined 
poor  Miss  Grizzy. 

"  The  only  remedy  is  to  explain  the  matter  quickly," 
observed  Miss  Nicky  ;  "better  late  than  never." 

"I  have  done,"  said  Miss  Jacky,  seating  herself 
with  much  dignity. 

"The  short  and  the  long  of  it  is  this,"  said  Miss 


MARRIAGE.  137 

Nicky,  "  My  brother  has  not  made  Henry  a  present 
of  money.  I  assure  you  money  is  not  so  rife ;  but 
he  has  done  what  is  much  better  for  you  both, — he 
has  made  over  to  him  that  fine  thriving  farm  of  poor 
Macglashan's." 

"  No  money  ! "  repeated  Lady  Juliana  in  a  discon- 
solate tone :  then  quickly  brightening  up,  "  It  Avould 
have  been  better,  to  be  sure,  to  have  had  the  money 
directly ;  but  you  know  we  can  easily  sell  the  estate. 
How  long  will  it  take  ?— a  week  ? " 

"Sell  Clackandow!"  exclaimed  the  three  horror- 
struck  daughters  of  the  house  of  Douglas.  "Sell 
Clackandow  !     Oh  !  oh  !  oh  !  " 

"What  else  could  we  do  with  if?"  inquired  her 
Ladyship. 

''Live  at  it,  to  be  sure,"  cried  all  three. 

"  Jiivc  at  it !"  repeated  she,  with  a  shriek  of  horror 
that  vioil  with  that  of  the  spinsters — "Live  at  it! 
Live  on  a  thriving  farm  !  Live  all  my  life  in  such  a 
place  as  this  !  Oh !  the  very  thought  is  enough  to 
kill  me !" 

"  There  is  no  occasion  to  think  or  say  any  more 
about  it,"  interrupted  Henry  in  a  calmer  tone ;  and, 
glancing  round  on  his  aunts,  "I  therefore  desire  no 
more  may  be  said  on  the  subject." 

"And  is  this  really  all?  And  have  you  got  no 
money  ?  And  are  we  not  going  away  1 "  gasped  the 
disappointed  Lady  Juliana,  as  she  gave  way  to  a 
violent  burst  of  tears,  that  terminated  in  a  fit  of 
hysterics ;    at    sight   of    which,    the   good    spinsters 


138  MARRIAGE. 

entirely  forgot  their  wrath;  and  while  one  burnt 
feathers  under  her  nose,  and  another  held  her  hands, 
a  third  drenched  her  in  floods  of  Lady  Maclaughlan's 
hysteric  water.  After  going  through  the  regular 
routine,  the  lady's  paroxsym  subsided ;  and  being 
carried  to  bed,  she  soon  sobbed  herself  into  a  feverish 
slumber ;  in  which  state  the  harassed  husband  left 
her  to  attend  a  summons  from  his  father. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

•  See  what  delight  in  sylvan  scenes  appear  ! " 

Pope. 
"  Haply  this  life  is  Lest, 
Sweetest  to  you,  well  corresponding 
"With  your  stiff  age  ;  but  unto  us  it  is 
A  cell  of  ignorance,  a  prison  for  a  debtor." 

Cynibeline. 

He  found  the  old  gentleman  in  no  very  complaisant 
humour,  from  the  disturbances  that  had  taken  place, 
but  the  chief  cause  of  which  he  was  still  in  ignorance 
of.     He  therefore  accosted  his  son  with  : 

"  What  was  the  meaning  o'  aw  that  skirhng  and 
squeeling  I  heard  a  while  ago  1  By  my  faith,  there's 
nae  bearing  this  din  !  Thae  beasts  o'  your  wife's  are 
eneugh  to  drive  a  body  oot  o'  their  judgment.  But 
she  maun  gi'e  up  thae  maggots  when  she  becomes  a 
farmer's  wife.  She  maun  get  stirks  and  stots  to  mak' 
pets  o',  if  she  maun  ha'e  four-fitted  favourites  ;  but,  to 
my  mind,  it  wad  set  her  better  to  be  carrying  a'  wise- 
like wean  in  her  arms,  than  trailing  aboot  ■\\'i'  thae 
confoonded  dougs  an'  paurits." 

Henry  coloured,  bit  his  lips,  but  made  no  reply  to 
this  elegant  address  of  his  father's,  who  continued, 
•'  I  sent  for  you,  sir,  to  have  some  conversation  about 


140  MAERIAGE. 

this  farm  of  Macglashan's ;  so  sit  down  there  till  I 
show  you  the  plans." 

Hardly  conscious  of  what  he  was  doing,  poor 
Henry  gazed  in  silent  confusion,  as  his  father  pointed 
out  the  various  properties  of  this  his  future  possession. 
Wholly  occupied  in  debating  within  himself  how  he 
was  to  decline  the  offer  without  a  downright  quarrel, 
he  heard,  without  understanding  a  word,  all  the  old 
gentleman's  plans  and  proposals  for  building  dikes, 
draining  moss,  etc. ;  and,  perfectly  unconscious  of 
what  he  was  doing,  yielded  a  ready  assent  to  all  the 
improvements  that  were  suggested. 

"  Then  as  for  the  hoose  and  offices, — let  me  see," 
continued  the  Laird,  as  he  rolled  up  the  plans  of  the 
farm,  and  pulled  forth  that  of  the  dwelling-house 
from  a  bundle  of  papers.  "  Ay,  here  it  is.  By  my 
troth,  ye'll  be  weel  lodged  here.  The  hoose  is  in  a 
manner  quite  new,  for  it  has  never  had  a  brush  upon 
it  yet  And  there's  a  byre — fient  a  bit,  if  I  would 
mean  the  best  man  i'  the  country  to  sleep  there 
himsel.'" 

A  pause  followed,  during  which  Glenfern  was  busily 
employed  in  poring  over  his  parchment ;  then  taking 
off  his  spectacles,  and  surveying  his  son,  "  And  now, 
sir,  that  you've  heard  a'  the  oots  an'  ins  o'  the  busi- 
ness, what  think  you  your  farm  should  bring  you  at 
the  year's  end  V 

"I — I — I'm  siire — I — I  don't  know,"  stammered 
poor  Henry,  awakening  from  his  reverie. 

"Come,  come,  gi'e  a  guess." 


MARRIAGE.  141 

"I  really — I  cannot — I  haven't  the  least  idea." 

"  I  desire,  sir,  ye'll  say  something  directly,  that  I 
may  judge  whether  or  no  ye  ha'e  common  sense,"  cried 
the  old  gentleman  angril)'. 

"  I  should  suppose — I  imagine — I  don't  suppose  it 
will  exceed  seven  or  eight  hundred  a  year,"  said  his 
son,  in  the  greatest  trepidation  at  this  trial  of  his 
intellect. 

"Seven  or  eight  hunder  deevils!"  cried  the  in- 
censed Laird,  starting  up  and  pushing  his  papers  from 
him.  "  By  my  faith,  I  believe  ye 're  a  born  idiot ! 
Seven  or  eight  hunder  pounds  ! "  repeated  he,  at  least 
a  dozen  times,  as  he  whisked  up  and  down  the  little 
apartment  with  extraordinary  velocity,  Avhile  poor 
Henry  affected  to  be  busily  employed  in  gathering  up 
the  parchments  with  which  the  floor  was  strewed. 

"I'll  tell  you  Avhat,  sir,"  continued  he,  stopping; 
*'  you're  no  fit  to  manage  a  farm ;  you're  as  ignorant 
as  yon  coo,  an'  as  senseless  as  its  cauf.  Wi'  gude 
management,  Clackandow  should  produce  you  twa 
hunder  and  odd  pounds  yearly ;  but  in  your  guiding 
I  doot  if  it  will  yield  the  half.  However,  tak'  it  or 
want  it,  mind  me,  sir,  that  it's  a'  ye  ha'e  to  trust  to  in 
my  lifetime;  so  ye  may  mak'  the  maist  o't." 

Various  and  painful  were  the  emotions  that  struggled 
in  Henry's  breast  at  this  declaration.  Shame,  regret, 
indignation,  all  burned  within  him ;  but  the  fear  he 
entertained  of  his  father,  and  the  consciousness  of  his 
absolute  dependence,  chained  his  tongue,  while  the 
bitter  emotions  that  agitated  him  painted  themselvea 


142  MARRIAGE. 

legibly  in  his  countenance.  His  father  observed  his 
agitation;  and,  mistaking  the  cause,  felt  somewhat 
softened  at  what  he  conceived  his  son's  shame  and 
penitence  for  his  folly.  He  therefore  extended  his 
hand  towards  him,  saying,  "  Weel,  weel,  nae  mair 
aboot  it;  Clackandow's  yours,  as  soon  as  I  can  put 
you  in  possession.  In  the  meantime,  stay  still  here, 
and  welcome." 

"I — am  much  obliged  to  you  for  the  offer,  sir;  I 
— feel  very  grateful  for  your  kindness,"  at  length 
articulated  his  son ;  "  but — I — am,  as  you  observe,  so 
perfectly  ignorant  of  country  matters,  that  I — I — in 
short,  I  am  afraid  I  should  make  a  bad  hand  of  the 
business." 

"Nae  doot,  nae  doot  ye  would,  if  ye  was  left  to 
your  ain  discretion;  but  ye'll  get  mair  sense,  and  I 
shall  put  ye  upon  a  method,  and  provide  ye  wi'  a 
grieve ;  an'  if  you  are  active,  and  your  wife  managing, 
there's  nae  fear  o'  you." 

"But  Lady  Juliana,  sir,  has  never  been  accus- 
tomed  " 

"Let  her  serve  an  apprenticeship  to  your  aunts; 
she  couldna  be  in  a  better  school." 

"  But  her  education,  sir,  has  been  so  different  from 
what  would  be  required  in  that  station,"  resumed  her 
husband,  choking  with  vexation,  at  the  idea  of  his 
beauteous  high-born  bride  being  doomed  to  the 
drudgery  of  household  cares. 

"  Edication  !  what  has  her  edication  been,  to  mak' 
her  different  frae  other  women?     If  a  woman  can 


MARRIAGE.  143 

nurse  her  bairns,  mak'  their  claes,  and  manage  her 
hoose,  what  mair  need  she  do  1  If  she  can  play  a  tune 
on  the  spinnet,  and  dance  a  reel,  and  play  a  rubber 
at  whist — nae  doot  these  are  accomplishments,  but 
they're  soon  learnt.  Edication  !  jDooh  ! —  I'll  be  bound 
Leddy  Jully  Anie  wull  mak'  as  gude  a  figure  by-and- 
by  as  the  best  edicated  woman  in  the  country." 

"  But  she  dislikes  the  country,  and " 

"  She'll  soon  come  to  like  it.  Wait  a  wee  till  she 
has  a  wheen  bairns,  an'  a  hoose  o'  her  ain,  an'  I'll  be 
bound  she'll  be  happy  as  the  day's  lang." 

"But  the  climate  does  not  agree  with  her,"  con- 
tinued the  tender  husband,  almost  driven  to  extremi- 
ties by  the  persevering  simplicity  of  his  father. 

"  Stay  a  wee  till  she  gets  to  Clackandow  !  There's 
no  a  finer,  freer-aired  situation  in  a'  Scotland.  The 
air's  sharpish,  to  be  sure,  but  fine  and  bracing ;  and 
you  have  a  braw  peat-moss  at  your  back  to  keep  you 
warm." 

Finding  it  in  vain  to  attempt  insimiating  his  objec- 
tions to  a  pastoral  life,  poor  Henry  was  at  length  re- 
duced to  the  necessity  of  coming  to  the  point  with 
the  old  gentleman,  and  telling  him  plainly  that  it 
was  not  at  all  suited  to  his  inclinations,  or  Lady 
Juhana's  rank  and  beauty. 

Vain  would  be  the  attempt  to  paint  the  fiery  ^VTath 
and  indignation  of  the  ancient  Higldander  as  the 
naked  truth  stood  revealed  before  him  : — that  his  son 
despised  the  occupation  of  his  fathers,  even  the  feed- 
ing of  sheep  and  the  breeding  of  black  cattle;  and 


144  MAKRIACxR. 

that  his  high-born  spouse  was  above  fulfilling  those 
duties  which  he  had  ever  considered  the  chief  end 
for  which  woman  was  created.  He  swore,  stamped, 
screamed,  and  even  skipped  with  rage,  and,  in  short, 
went  through  all  the  evolutions  as  usually  performed 
by  testy  old  gentlemen  on  first  discovering  that  they 
have  disobedient  sons  and  undutif  ul  daughters.  Henry, 
who,  though  uncommonly  good-tempered,  inherited  a 
portion  of  his  father's  warmth,  became  at  length  irri- 
tated at  the  invectives  that  were  so  liberally  bestowed 
on  him,  and  replied  in  language  less  respectful  than 
the  old  Laird  was  accustomed  to  hear ;  and  the  alter- 
cation became  so  violent  that  they  parted  in  mutual 
anger ;  Henry  returning  to  his  wife's  apartment  in  a 
state  of  the  greatest  disquietude  he  had  ever  known. 
To  her  childish  complaints,  and  tiresome  complaints, 
he  no  longer  vouchsafed  to  reply,  but  paced  the 
chamber  with  a  disordered  mien,  in  sullen  silence ; 
till  at  length,  distracted  by  her  reproaches,  and  dis- 
gusted with  her  selfishness,  he  rushed  from  the  apart- 
ment and  quitted  the  house. 


CHAPTEE  XIIL 

"Never  talk  to  me  ;  I  will  weep." 

As  Yoit  Like  It. 

Twice  had  the  dinner  bell  been  loudly  sounded  by 
old  Donald,  and  the  family  of  Glenfern  were  all 
assembled,  yet  their  fashionable  guests  had  not 
appeared.  Impatient  of  delay,  ]\Iiss  Jacky  hastened 
to  ascertain  the  cause.  Presently  she  returned  in  the 
utmost  perturbation,  and  announced  that  Lady  Juliana 
was  in  bed  in  a  high  fever,  and  Henry  nowhere  to  be 
found.  The  whole  eight  rushed  upstairs  to  ascertain 
the  fact,  leaving  the  old  gentleman  much  discomposed 
at  this  unseasonable  delay. 

Some  time  elapsed  ere  they  again  returned,  which 
they  did  with  lengthened  faces,  and  in  extreme  per- 
turbation. They  had  found  their  noble  niece,  accord- 
ing to  Miss  Jacky's  report,  in  bed — according  to  Miss 
Grizzy's  opinion,  in  a  brain  fever ;  as  she  no  sooner 
perceived  them  enter,  than  she  covered  her  head  wath 
the  bedclothes,  and  continued  screaming  for  them  to 
be  gone,  till  they  had  actualh^  quitted  the  apartment. 

"And  what  proves  beyond  a  doubt  that  our  sweet 
niece  is  not  herself,"  continued  poor  Miss  Grizzy,  in  a 
VOL.  L  L  M. 


14G  MAr.rjAGE. 

lamentable  tone,  "  is  that  we  appeared  to  her  in  every 
form  but  our  own  !  She  sometimes  took  us  for  cats  ; 
then  thought  we  were  ghosts  haunting  her ;  and,  in 
short,  it  is  impossible  to  tell  all  the  things  she  called 
us ;  and  she  screams  so  for  Harry  to  come  and  take 
her  away  that  I  am  sure — I  declare — I  don't  know 
what's  come  over  her  ! " 

Mrs.  Douglas  could  scarce  suppress  a  smile  at  the 
simplicity  of  the  good  spinsters.  Her  husband  and 
she  had  gone  out  immediately  after  breakfast  to  pay 
a  visit  a  few  miles  off,  and  did  not  return  till  near 
the  dinner  hour.  They  were  therefore  ignorant  of  all 
that  had  been  acted  during  their  absence ;  but  as 
she  suspected  something  was  amiss,  she  requested  the 
rest  of  the  company  would  proceed  to  dinner,  and 
leave  her  to  ascertain  the  nature  of  Lady  Juliana's 
disorder. 

"  Don't  come  near  me  ! "  shrieked  her  Ladyship, 
on  hearing  the  door  open.  "  Send  Harry  to  take  me 
away;  I  don't  want  anybody  but  Harry!" — and  a 
torrent  of  tears,  sobs,  and  exclamations  followed. 

"My  dear  Lady  Juliana,"  said  Mrs.  Douglas, 
softly  approaching  the  bed,  "  compose  yourself ;  and 
if  my  presence  is  disagreeable  to  you  I  shall  imme- 
diately withdraw." 

"  Oh,  is  it  you  1 "  cried  her  sister-in-law,  uncover- 
ing her  face  at  the  sound  of  her  voice.  "  I  thought  it 
had  been  these  frightful  old  women  come  to  torment 
me ;  and  I  shall  die — I  know  I  shall — if  ever  I  look 
at  them  again.     But  I  don't  dislike  you  ;  so  you  may 


MATIRIAGE.  147 

stay  if  you  choose,  though  I  don't  want  anybody  but 
Harry  to  come  and  take  me  away." 

A  fresh  fit  of  sobbing  here  impeded  her  utterance ; 
and  Mrs.  Douglas,  compassionating  her  distress,  while 
she  despised  her  folly,  seated  herself  by  the  bedside, 
and  taking  her  hand,  in  the  sweetest  tone  of  com- 
placency attempted  to  soothe  her  into  composure. 

"  The  only  way  in  which  you  can  be  less  miserable," 
said  Mrs.  Douglas  in  a  soothing  tone,  "  is  to  support 
your  present  situation  with  patience,  which  you  may 
do  by  looking  forward  to  brighter  prospects.  It  is 
possible  that  j'^our  stay  here  may  be  short ;  and  it  is 
certain  that  it  is  in  your  o^vn  power  to  render  your 
life  more  agreeable  by  endeavouring  to  accommodate 
yourself  to  the  peculiarities  of  your  husband's  family 
No  doubt  they  are  often  tiresome  and  ridiculous;  bu'; 
they  are  always  kind  and  well-meaning." 

"  You  may  say  what  you  please,  but  I  think  then) 
all  odious  creatures ;  and  I  won't  live  here  with 
patience  ;  and  I  shan't  be  agreeable  to  them  ;  and  all 
the  talking  in  the  world  won't  make  me  less  miserable. 
If  you  were  me,  you  would  be  just  the  same ;  but 
you  have  never  been  in  London — that's  the  reason." 

"Pardon  me,"  replied  her  sister-in-law,  "I  spent 
many  years  of  my  life  there." 

"You  lived  in  London!"  repeated  Lady  Juliana 
in  astonishment.  "  And  how,  then,  can  you  contrive 
to  exist  here  1 " 

"  I  not  only  contrive  to  exist,  but  to  be  extremely 
contented  with  existence,"  said  Mrs.  Douglas,  with  a 


148  MAKRIAGE. 

smile.  Then  assuming  a  more  serious  air,  "  I  possess 
health,  peace  of  mind,  and  the  affections  of  a  worthy 
husband  ;  and  I  should  be  very  undeserving  of  these 
blessings  were  I  to  give  way  to  useless  regrets  or 
indulge  in  impious  repinings  because  my  happiness 
might  once  have  been  more  perfect,  and  still  admits 
of  improvement." 

"I  don't  understand  you,"  said  Lady  Juliana,  with 
a  peevish  yawn.     "Who  did  you  live  Avith  in  London?" 

"With  my  aunt,  Lady  Audley." 

"  With  Lady  Audley  ! "  repeated  her  sister-in-law 
in  accents  of  astonishment.  "  Why,  I  have  heard  of 
her ;  she  Hved  quite  in  the  world ;  and  gave  balls  and 
assemblies ;  so  that's  the  reason  you  are  not  so  dis- 
agreeable as  the  rest  of  them.  Why  did  you  not 
remain  with  her,  or  marry  an  Enghshman?  But  I 
suppose,  hke  me,  you  didn't  know  what  Scotland 
was  !" 

Happy  to  have  excited  an  interest,  even  through 
the  medium  of  childish  curiosity,  in  the  bosom  of  her 
fashionable  relative,  Mrs.  Douglas  briefly  related  such 
circumstances  of  her  past  life  as  she  judged  proper 
to  communicate ;  but  as  she  sought  rather  to  amuse 
than  instruct  by  her  simple  narrative,  we  shall  allow 
her  to  pursue  her  charitable  intentions,  while  we 
do  more  justice  to  her  character  by  introducing  her 
regularly  to  the  acquaintance  of  our  readers. 


MAKIIIAGE.  149 


!{^i5torp  of  9^\:^.  2Doufflfl0» 

"  The  selfish  heart  deserves  the  pang  it  feels ; 
More  geueroiis  sorrow,  while  it  sinks,  exalts, 
And  conscious  virtue  mitigates  the  pang." 

Young. 

Mrs.  Douglas  was,  on  the  maternal  side,  related  to 
an  English  family.  Her  mother  had  died  in  giving 
birth  to  her ;  and  her  father,  shortly  after,  falling  in 
the  service  of  his  country,  she  had  been  consigned  in 
infancy  to  the  care  of  her  aunt.  Lady  Audley  had 
taken  charge  of  her,  on  condition  that  she  should 
never  be  claimed  by  her  Scottish  relations,  for  whom 
that  lady  entertained  as  much  aversion  as  contempt. 
A  latent  feeling  of  affection  for  her  departed  sister, 
and  a  large  portion  of  family  pride,  had  prompted  her 
wish  of  becoming  the  protectress  of  her  ori)han  niece  ; 
and,  possessed  of  a  high  sense  of  rectitude  and  honour, 
she  fulfilled  the  duty  thus  voluntarily  imposed  in  a 
manner  that  secured  the  unshaken  gratitude  of  the 
virtuous  Alicia. 

Lady  Audley  was  a  character  more  esteemed  and 
feared  than  loved,  even  l)y  tliose  with  whom  she  was 
most  intimate.  Firm,  upright,  and  rigid,  she  exacted 
from  others  those  intle\'i!)le  virtues  which  in  herself 


150  MARRIAGE. 

she  found  no  obstacle  to  performing.  Neglecting  the 
softer  attractions  which  shed  their  benign  influence 
over  the  commerce  of  social  life,  she  was  content  to 
enjoy  the  extorted  esteem  of  her  associates ;  for  friends 
she  had  none.  She  sought  in  the  world  for  objects  to 
fill  up  the  void  which  her  heart  could  not  supply. 
She  loved  6clat,  and  had  succeeded  in  creating  herself 
an  existence  of  importance  in  the  circles  of  high  life, 
which  she  considered  more  as  due  to  her  consequence 
than  essential  to  her  enjoyment.  She  had  early  in 
life  been  left  a  widow,  with  the  sole  tutelage  and 
management  of  an  only  son,  whose  large  estate  she 
regulated  with  the  most  admirable  prudence  and 
judgment. 

Alicia  Malcolm  was  put  under  the  care  of  her  aunt 
at  two  years  of  age.  A  governess  had  been  procured 
for  her,  whose  character  was  such  as  not  to  impair 
the  promising  dispositions  of  her  pupil.  Alicia  was 
gifted  by  nature  with  a  warm  affectionate  heart,  and 
a  calm  imagination  attemi^ered  its  influence.  Her 
governess,  a  woman  of  a  strong  understanding  and 
enlarged  mind,  early  instilled  into  her  a  deep  and 
strong  sense  of  religion ;  and  to  it  she  owed  the 
support  which  had  safely  guided  her  through  the 
most  trying  vicissitudes. 

\Vlien  at  the  age  of  seventeen  Alicia  Malcolm  was 
produced  in  the  world.  She  was  a  rational,  cheerful, 
and  sweet-tempered  girl,  with  a  finely  formed  person, 
and  a  countenance  in  which  was  so  clearly  painted  the 
sunshine  of  hex  breast,  that  it  attracted  the  hienveill- 


MAKRIAGE.  151 

ance  even  of  those  who  had  not  taste  or  judgment  to 
define  the  charm.  Her  open  natural  manner,  blend- 
ing the  frankness  of  the  Scotch  with  the  polished 
reserve  of  the  English  Avoman,  her  total  exemption 
from  vanity,  calculated  alike  to  please  others  and  main- 
tain her  own  cheerfulness  undimmed  by  a  single  cloud. 

Lady  Audley  felt  for  her  niece  a  sentiment  which 
she  mistook  for  affection;  her  self- approbation  was 
gratified  at  the  contemplation  of  a  being  who  owed 
every  advantage  to  her,  and  whom  she  had  rescued 
from  the  coarseness  and  vulgarity  which  she  deemed 
inseparable  from  the  manners  of  every  Scotchwoman. 

If  Lady  Audley  really  loved  any  human  being 
it  was  her  son.  In  him  were  centred  her  dearest 
interests ;  on  his  aggrandisement  and  future  import- 
ance hung  her  most  sanguine  hopes.  She  had  acted 
contrary  to  the  advice  of  her  male  relations,  and 
followed  her  own  judgment,  by  giving  her  son  a 
private  education.  He  was  brought  up  under  her 
own  eye  by  a  tutor  of  deep  erudition,  but  who  was 
totally  unfitted  for  forming  the  mind,  and  compensat- 
ing for  those  advantages  which  may  be  derived  from 
a  public  education.  The  circumstances  of  his  educa- 
tion, however,  combined  rather  to  stifle  the  exposure 
than  to  destroy  the  existence  of  some  very  dangerous 
qualities  that  seemed  inherent  in  Sir  Edmund's  nature. 
He  was  ardent,  impetuous,  and  passionate,  though 
these  propensities  were  cloaked  by  a  reserve,  partly 
natural,  and  partly  arising  from  the  repelling  manners 
of  his  mother  and  tutor. 


152  MARRIAGE. 

His  was  not  the  effervescence  of  character  which 
bursts  forth  on  every  trivial  occasion ;  but  when  any 
powerful  cause  awakened  the  slumbering  inmates  of 
his  breast,  they  blazed  with  an  uncontrolled  fury  that 
defied  all  opposition,  and  overleaped  all  bounds  of 
reason  and  decorum. 

Experience  often  shows  us  that  minds  formed  of 
the  most  opposite  attributes  more  forcibly  attract  each 
other  than  those  which  appear  cast  in  the  same  mould. 
The  source  of  this  fascination  is  difficult  to  trace ;  it 
possesses  not  reason  for  its  basis,  yet  it  is  perhaps  the 
more  tyrannical  in  its  influence  from  that  very  cause. 
The  weakness  of  our  natures  occasionally  makes  us 
feel  a  potent  charm  in  "  errors  of  a  noble  mind." 

Sir  Edmund  Audlcy  and  Alicia  Malcolm  proved 
examples  of  this  observation.  The  affection  of  child- 
hood had  so  gradually  ripened  into  a  warmer  senti- 
ment, that  neither  was  conscious  of  the  nature  of  that 
sentiment  till  after  it  had  attained  strength  to  cast  a 
material  influence  on  their  after  lives.  The  familiarity 
of  near  relatives  associating  constantly  together  pro- 
duced a  warm  sentiment  of  affection,  cemented  by 
similarity  of  pursuits,  and  enlivened  by  diversity  of 
character;  while  the  perfect  tranquillity  of  their  lives 
afforded  no  event  that  could  withdraw  the  veil  of 
ignorance  from  their  eyes. 

Could  a  Avoman  of  Lady  Audley's  discernment,  it 
may  be  asked,  place  two  young  persons  in  such  a 
situation,  and  doubt  the  consequences'?  Those  who 
are  no  longer  young  are  liable  to  forget  that  love  is  ^ 


MARRIAGE.  153 

plant  of  early  growth,  and  that  the  individuals  that 
they  have  but  a  short  time  before  beheld  placing 
their  supreme  felicity  on  a  rattle  and  a  go-cart  can 
so  soon  be  actuated  by  the  strongest  passions  of  the 
human  breast. 

Sir  Edmund  completed  his  nineteenth  year,  and 
Alicia  entered  her  eighteenth,  when  this  happy  state 
of  unconscious  security  was  destroj'ed  by  a  circum- 
stance which  rent  the  veil  from  her  eyes,  and  disclosed 
his  sentiments  in  all  their  energy  and  warmth.  This 
circumstance  was  no  other  than  a  proposal  of  marriage 
to  Alicia  from  a  gentleman  of  large  fortune  and  bril- 
liant connexions  who  resided  in  their  neighbourhood. 
His  character  was  as  little  calculated  as  his  appearance 
to  engage  the  affections  of  a  young  woman  of  delicacy 
and  good  sense.  But  he  was  a  man  of  consequence  ; 
heir  to  an  earldom ;  member  for  the  county ;  and 
Lady  Audley,  rejoicing  at  what  she  termed  Alicia's 
good  fortune,  determined  that  she  should  become  his 
wife. 

With  mild  finuiiess  she  rejected  the  honour 
intended  her  ;,  but  it  Avas  with  difficulty  that  Lady 
Audley's  mind  could  adopt  or  understand  the  idea  of 
an  opposition  to  her  wishes.  She  could  not  seriously 
embrace  the  conviction  that  Alicia  was  determined 
to  disobey  her ;  and  in  order  to  bring  her  to  a  right 
understanding  she  underwent  a  system  of  persecution 
that  tended  naturally  to  increase  the  antipathy  her 
suitor  had  inspired.  Lady  Audlej',  with  the  indis- 
criminating  zeal  of  prejudiced  and  overbearing  persons, 


154  MAKKIAGE. 

strove  to  recommend  him  to  her  niece  by  all  those 
attributes  which  were  of  value  in  her  own  eyes ; 
making  allowance  for  a  certain  degree  of  indecision 
in  her  niece,  but  never  admitting  a  doubt  that  in  due 
time  her  will  should  be  obeyed,  as  it  had  always 
hitherto  been. 

At  this  juncture  Sir  Edmund  came  down  to  the 
country,  and  was  struck  by  the  altered  looks  and 
pensive  manners  of  his  once  cheerful  cousin.  About 
a  week  after  his  arrival  he  found  Alicia  one  morning 
in  tears,  after  a  long  conversation  Avith  Lady  Audley. 
Sir  Edmund  tenderly  soothed  her,  and  entreated  to 
be  made  acquainted  with  the  cause  of  her  distress. 
She  was  so  habituated  to  impart  every  thought  to  her 
cousin,  the  intimacy  and  sympathy  of  their  souls  were 
so  entire,  that  she  would  not  have  concealed  the  late 
occurrence  from  him  had  she  not  been  withheld  by 
the  natural  timidity  and  delicacy  a  young  woman  feels 
in  making  her  own  conquests  the  subject  of  conversa- 
tion. But  now  so  pathetically  and  irresistibly  per- 
suaded by  Sir  Edmund,  and  sensible  that  every  dis- 
tress of  hers  wounded  his  heart,  Alicia  candidly 
related  to  him  the  pursuit  of  her  disagreeable  suitor, 
and  the  importunities  of  liady  Audley  in  his  favour. 
Every  word  she  had  spoken  had  more  and  more  dis- 
pelled the  mist  that  had  so  long  hung  over  Sir 
Edmund's  inclinations.  At  the  first  mention  of  a 
suitor,  he  had  felt  that  to  be  hers  was  a  happiness 
that  comprised  all  others ;  and  that  the  idea  of  losing 
her  made  the  whole  of  existence  appear  a  frightful 


MARRIAGE.  155 

blank.  These  feelings  were  no  sooner  known  to  him- 
self than  spontaneously  poured  into  her  delighted 
ears;  while  she  felt  that  every  sentiment  met  a 
kindred  one  in  her  breast.  Alicia  sought  not  a 
moment  to  disguise  those  feelings,  which  she  now,  for 
the  first  time,  became  aware  of ;  they  were  known  to 
the  object  of  her  innocent  affection  as  soon  as  to  her- 
self, and  both  were  convinced  that,  though  not  con- 
scious before  of  the  nature  of  their  sentiments,  love 
had  long  been  mistaken  for  friendship  in  their  hearts. 

But  this  state  of  blissful  serenity  did  not  last  long. 
On  the  evening  of  the  following  day  Lady  Audley 
sent  for  her  to  her  dressing-room.  On  entering, 
Alicia  was  panic-struck  at  her  aunt's  pale  countenance, 
fiery  eyes,  and  frame  convulsed  Avith  passion.  With 
difficulty  Lady  Audley,  struggling  for  calmness,  de- 
manded an  instant  and  decided  reply  to  the  proposals 
of  Mr.  Compton,  the  gentleman  Avho  had  solicited 
her  hand.  Alicia  entreated  her  aunt  to  waive  the 
subject,  as  she  found  it  impossible  ever  to  consent  to 
such  a  union. 

Scarcely  was  her  answer  uttered  when  Lady 
Audley's  anger  burst  forth  uncontrollably.  She  ac- 
cused her  niece  of  the  vilest  ingratitude  in  having 
seduced  her  son  from  the  obedience  he  owed  his 
mother;  of  having  plotted  to  ally  her  base  Scotch 
blood  to  the  noble  blood  of  the  Audleys ;  and,  having 
exhausted  every  opprobrious  epithet,  she  was  forced 
to  stop  from  want  of  breath  to  proceed.  As  Alicia 
listened  to  the  cruel,  unfounded  reproaches  of  her 


156  MAKKIAGK 

aunt,  her  spirit  rose  under  the  unmerited  ill-usage, 
but  her  conscience  absolved  her  from  all  intention  of 
injuring  or  deceiving  a  human  being  ;  and  she  calmly 
waited  till  Lady  Audley's  anger  should  have  exhausted 
itself,  and  then  entreated  to  know  what  part  of  her 
conduct  had  excited  her  aunt's  displeasure. 

Lady  Audley's  reply  was  diffuse  and  intemperate. 
Alicia  gathered  from  it  that  her  rage  had  its  source  in 
a  declaration  her  son  had  made  to  her  of  his  affection 
for  his  cousin,  and  his  resolution  of  marrying  her  as 
soon  as  he  was  of  age ;  which  open  avowal  of  his 
sentiments  had  followed  Lady  Audley's  injunctions  to 
him  to  forward  the  suit  of  Mr.  Compton. 

That  her  son,  for  whom  she  had  in  view  one  of  the 
first  matches  in  the  kingdom,  should  dare  to  choose 
for  himself  ;  and,  above  all,  to  choose  one  whom  she 
considered  as  much  his  inferor  in  birth  as  she  was  in 
fortune,  was  a  circumstance  quite  insupportable  to  her 
feelings. 

Of  the  existence  of  love  Lady  Audley  had  little 
conception ;  and  she  attributed  her  son's  conduct  to 
Avilful  disobedience  and  obstinacy.  In  proportion  as 
she  had  hitherto  found  him  complying  and  gentle,  her 
wrath  had  kindled  at  his  present  firmness  and  inflexi- 
bility. So  bitter  were  her  reflections  on  his  conduct, 
so  severe  her  animadversions  on  the  being  he  loved, 
that  Sir  Edmund,  fired  with  resentment,  expressed 
his  resolution  of  acting  according  to  the  dictates  of 
his  own  will ;  and  expressed  his  contempt  for  her 
authority   in    terms    the   most   unequivocal.       Lad^r 


MAERIAGE.  157 

Audley,  ignorant  of  the  arts  of  persuasion,  by  every 
word  she  uttered  more  and  more  widened  the  breach 
her  imperiousness  had  occasioned,  until  Sir  Edmund, 
feeling  himself  no  longer  master  of  his  temper,  an- 
nounced his  intention  of  leaving  the  house,  to  allow 
his  mother  time  to  reconcile  herself  to  the  inevitable 
misfortune  of  beholding  him  the  husband  of  Alicia 
Malcolm. 

He  instantly  ordered  his  horses  and  departed, 
leaving  the  following  letter  for  his  cousin  : — 

"I  have  been  compelled  by  motives  of  prudence, 
of  which  you  are  the  sole  object,  to  depart  without 
seeing  you.  My  absence  became  necessary  from  the 
unexpected  conduct  of  Lady  Audley,  Avhich  has  led 
me  so  near  to  forgetting  that  she  was  my  mother, 
that  I  dare  not  remain,  and  subject  myself  to  excesses 
of  temjjer  which  I  might  afterwards  repent.  Two 
years  must  elapse  before  I  can  become  legally  my 
own  master,  and  should  Lady  Audley  so  far  depart 
from  the  dictates  of  cool  judgment  as  still  to  oppose 
what  she  knows  to  be  inevitable,  I  fear  that  we  cannot 
meet  till  then.  My  heart  is  well  kno-ttTi  to  jou ; 
therefore  I  need  not  enlarge  on  the  pain  I  feel  at  this 
unlooked-for  separation.  At  the  same  time,  I  am 
cheered  with  the  prospect  of  the  unspeakable  happi- 
ness that  awaits  me — the  possession  of  your  hand ; 
and  the^  confidence  I  feel  in  your  constancy  is  in  pro- 
portion to  the  certainty  I  experience  in  my  own ; 
I  cannot,  therefore,  fear  that  any  of  the  means  which 


158  MARRIAGE. 

may  be  put  in  practice  to  disunite  us  will  have  more 
eifect  on  you  than  on  me. 

"  Looking  forward  to  the  moment  that  shall  make 
you  mine  for  ever,  I  remain  with  steady  confidence 
and  unspeakable  affection,  your 

"Edmund  Audley." 

With  a  trembling  frame  Alicia  handed  the  note  to 
Lady  Audley,  and  begged  leave  to  retire  for  a  short 
time ;  expressing  her  willingness  to  reply  at  another 
moment  to  any  question  her  aunt  might  choose  to 
put  to  her  with  regard  to  her  engagement  with  Sir 
Edmund. 

In  the  solitude  of  her  own  chamber  Alicia  gave 
way  to  those  feelings  of  wretchedness  which  she  had 
with  difficulty  stifled  in  the  presence  of  Lady  Audley, 
and  bitterly  wept  over  the  extinction  of  her  bright 
and  newly-formed  visions  of  felicity.  To  yield  to 
unmerited  ill-usage,  or  to  crouch  beneath  imperious 
and  self -arrogated  power,  was  not  in  the  nature  of 
Alicia ;  and  had  Lady  Audley  been  a  stranger  to  her, 
the  path  of  duty  would  have  been  less  intricate. 
However  much  her  own  pride  might  have  been 
wounded  by  entering  into  a  family  which  considered 
her  as  an  intruding  beggar,  never  would  she  have 
consented  to  sacrifice  the  virtuous  inclinations  of  the 
man  she  loved  to  the  will  of  an  arrogant  and  imperious 
mother.  But  alas  !  the  case  was  far  different.  The 
recent  ill-treatment  she  had  experienced  from  Lady 
Audley  could  not  efface  from  her  noble  mind   the 


MAP.  RI  AGE.  159 

recollection  of  benefits  conferred  from  the  earliest 
period,  of  her  life,  and  of  unvarying  attention  to  her 
welfare.  To  her  aunt  she  owed  all  but  existence  : 
she  had  wholly  supported  her ;  bestowed  on  her  the 
most  liberal  education  ;  and  from  Lady  Audley  sprang 
every  pleasure  she  had  hitherto  enjoyed. 

Had  she  been  brought  up  by  her  paternal  relations, 
she  would  in  all  probability  never  have  beheld  her 
cousin ;  and  the  mother  and  son  might  have  lived  in 
uninterrupted  concord.  Could  she  be  the  person  to 
inflict  on  Lady  Audley  the  severest  disappointment 
she  could  experience  1  The  thought  was  too  dreadful 
to  bear ;  and,  knowing  that  procrastination  could  but 
increase  her  misery,  no  sooner  had  she  felt  convinced 
of  the  true  nature  of  her  duty  than  she  made  a  steady 
resolution  to  perform  and  to  adhere  to  it.  Lady 
Audley  had  voiced  that  ichile  she  had  life  she  would  never 
give  her  consent  and  approbation  to  her  son's  marriage  ; 
and  Alicia  was  too  well  acquainted  Avitli  her  disposition 
to  have  the  faintest  expectation  that  she  would  relent. 

But  to  remain  any  longer  under  her  protection 
was  impossible ;  and  she  resolved  to  anticipate  any 
proposal  of  that  sort  from  her  protectress. 

When  Lady  Audley's  passion  had  somewhat  cooled, 
she  again  sent  for  Alicia.  She  began  by  repeating 
her  eternal  enmity  to  the  marriage  in  a  manner  impres- 
sive to  the  greatest  degree,  and  still  more  decisive  in 
its  form  by  the  cool  collcctedness  of  her  manner. 
She  then  desired  to  hear  what  Alicia  had  to  say  in 
exculpation  of  her  conduct. 


160  MARRIAGE. 

The  profound  soitow  which  filled  the  heart  of 
Alicia  left  no  room  for  timidity  or  indecision.  She 
answered  her  without  hesitation  and  embarrassment, 
and  asserted  her  innocence  of  all  deceit  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  leave  no  doubt  at  least  of  honourable 
proceeding.  In  a  few  impressive  words  she  proved 
herself  sensible  of  the  benefits  her  aunt  had  through 
life  conferred  upon  her ;  and,  while  she  openly  pro- 
fessed to  think  herself,  in  the  present  instance, 
deeply  wronged,  she  declared  her  determination  of 
never  uniting  herself  to  her  cousin  without  Lady 
Audley's  permission,  which  she  felt  convinced  was 
unattainable. 

She  then  proceeded  to  ask  where  she  should  deem 
it  most  advisable  for  her  to  reside  in  future. 

Happy  to  find  her  wishes  ihus  prevented,  the  un- 
feeling aunt  expressed  her  satisfaction  at  Alicia's  good 
sense  and  discretion ;  represented,  in  what  she  thought 
glowing  colours,  the  unheard-of  presumption  it  would 
have  been  in  her  to  take  advantage  of  Sir  Edmund's 
momentary  infatuation ;  and  then  launched  out  into 
details  of  her  ambitious  views  for  him  in  a  matrimonial 
alliance — views  which  she  affected  now  to  consider 
without  obstacle. 

Alicia  interrupted  the  painful  and  unfeeling  har- 
angue. It  was  neither,  she  said,  for  Sir  Edmund's 
advantage  nor  to  gratify  his  mother's  pride,  but  to 
perform  the  dictates  of  her  own  conscience,  that  she 
had  resigned  him ;  she  even  ventured  to  declare  that 
the  sharpest  pang  which  that  resignation  had  cost  her 


MARRIAGE.  161 

was  the  firm  conviction  that  it  would  inflict  upon  him 
a  deep  and  lasting  sorrow. 

Lady  Audley,  convinced  that  moderate  measures 
would  be  most  likely  to  ensure  a  continuation  of 
Alicia's  obedience,  expressed  herself  grieved  at  the 
necessity  of  parting  with  her,  and  pleased  that  she 
should  have  the  good  sense  to  perceive  the  propriety 
of  such  a  separation. 

Sir  Duncan  Malcolm,  the  grandfather  of  Alicia,  had, 
in  the  few  communications  that  had  passed  between 
Lady  Audley  and  him,  always  expressed  a  wish  to  see 
his  granddaughter  before  he  died.  Her  ladyship's 
antipathy  to  Scotland  was  such  that  she  would  have 
deemed  it  absolute  contamination  for  her  niece  to 
have  entered  the  countr}* ;  and  she  had  therefore 
always  eluded  the  request. 

It  was  now,  of  all  plans,  the  most  eligible  ;  and  she 
graciously  offered  to  convey  her  niece  as  far  as  Edin- 
burgh. The  journey  was  immediately  settled ;  and 
before  Alicia  left  her  aunt's  presence  a  promise  was 
exacted  Avith  unfeeling  tenacity,  and  given  with  melan- 
choly firmness,  never  to  unite  herself  to  Sir  Edmund 
unsanctioned  by  his  mother. 

Alas  !  how  imperfect  is  human  wisdom  !  Even  in 
seeking  to  do  right  how  many  are  the  errors  we 
commit !  Alicia  judged  wrong  in  thus  sacrificing  the 
happiness  of  Sir  Edmund  to  the  pride  and  injustice 
of  his  mother ;  but  her  error  was  that  of  a  noble, 
self-denying  spirit,  entitled  to  respect,  even  though  it 
cannot  claim  approbation.     The  honourable  open  con- 

VOL.  I.  M  If. 


162  MARRIAGE. 

duct  of  her  niece  had  so  far  gained  upon  Lady  Audley 
that  she  did  not  object  to  her  writing  to  Sir  Edmund, 
which  she  did  as  follows  : — 

"Dear  Sir  Edmund — A  painful  line  of  conduct 
is  pointed  out  to  me  by  duty ;  yet  of  all  the  regrets 
I  feel  not  one  is  so  poignant  as  the  consciousness  of 
that  which  you  will  feel  at  learning  that  I  have  for 
ever  resigned  the  claims  you  so  lately  gave  me  to  your 
heart  and  hand.  It  was  not  weakness — it  could  not 
be  inconstancy — that  produced  the  painful  sacrifice  of 
a  distinction  still  more  gratifying  to  my  heart  than 
flattering  to  my  pride. 

"Need  I  remind  you  that  to  your  mother  I  owe 
every  benefit  in  life  1  Nothing  can  release  me  from 
the  tribute  of  gratitude  which  would  be  ill  repaid  by 
braving  her  authority  and  despising  her  will.  Should 
I  give  her  reason  to  regret  the  hour  she  received  me 
under  her  roof,  to  repent  of  every  benefit  she  has 
hitherto  bestowed  on  me ;  should  I  draw  down  a 
mother's  displeasure,  what  reasonable  hopes  could  we 
entertain  of  solid  peace  through  life  1  I  am  not  in  a 
situation  which  entitles  me  to  question  the  justice  of 
Lady  Audley's  will;  and  that  Avill  has  pronounced 
that  I  shall  never  be  Sir  Edmund's  wife. 

"  Your  first  impulse  may  perhaps  be  to  accuse  me 
of  coldness  and  ingratitude  in  quitting  the  place  and 
country  you  inhabit,  and  resigning  you  back  to  your- 
self, without  personally  taking  leave  of  you ;  but  I  trust 
that  you  will,  on  reflection,  absolve  me  from  the  charge. 


MARRIAGE.  1G3 

"  Could  I  have  had  any  grounds  to  suppose  tliat  a 
personal  interview  would  be  productive  of  comfort  to 
you,  I  would  have  joyfully  supported  the  sufferings 
it  would  have  inflicted  on  myself.  But  question  your 
own  heart  as  to  the  use  you  would  have  made  of  such 
a  meeting ;  bear  in  mind  that  Lady  Audley  has  my 
solemn  promise  never  to  be  yours — a  promise  not 
lightly  given ;  then  imagine  what  must  have  been  an 
interview  between  us  under  such  circumstances. 

"In  proof  of  an  aff"ection  which  I  can  have  no 
reason  to  doubt,  I  conjure  you  to  listen  to  the  last 
request  I  shall  ever  make  to  my  dear  cousin.  Give 
me  the  heartfelt  satisfaction  to  know  that  my  depart- 
ure has  put  an  end  to  those  disagreements  between 
mother  and  son  of  which  I  have  been  the  innocent 
cause. 

"  You  have  no  reason  to  blame  Lady  Audley  for 
this  last  step  of  mine.  I  have  not  been  intimidated — 
threats,  believe  me,  never  would  have  extorted  from 
me  a  promise  to  renounce  you,  had  not  Virtue  herself 
dictated  the  sacrifice ;  and  my  reward  will  spring 
from  the  conviction  that,  as  far  as  my  judgment  could 
discern,  I  have  acted  right. 

"Forget,  I  entreat  you,  this  inauspicious  passion. 
Resolve,  like  me,  to  resign  yourself,  without  murmur- 
ing, to  what  is  now  past  recall;  and,  instead  of  in- 
dulging melancholy,  regain,  by  a  timely  exertion  of 
mind  and  body,  that  serenity  which  is  the  portion  of 
those  who  have  obej'ed  the  dictates  of  rectitude. 

"Farewell,   Sir   Edmund.      May  every  happiness 


164  MARRIAGE, 

attend  your  future  life  !  While  I  strive  to  forget  my 
ill-fated  affection,  the  still  stronger  feelings  of  grati- 
tude and  esteem  for  you  can  never  fade  from  the 
heart  of  "Alicia  MALCOLM." 

To  say  that  no  tears  were  shed  during  the  com- 
position of  this  letter  would  be  to  overstrain  forti- 
tude beyond  natural  bounds.  With  difficulty  Alicia 
checked  the  effusions  of  her  pen.  She  wished  to  have 
said  much  more,  and  to  have  soothed  the  agony  of 
renunciation  by  painting  with  warmth  her  tenderness 
and  her  regret ;  but  reason  urged  that,  in  exciting 
his  feelings  and  displaying  her  own,  she  would  defeat 
the  chief  pui'pose  of  her  letter.  She  hastily  closed 
and  directed  it,  with  a  feeling  almost  akin  to  despair. 

The  necessary  arrangements  for  the  journey  having 
been  hastily  made,  the  ladies  set  out  two  days  after 
Sir  Edmund  had  so  hastily  quitted  them.  The  un- 
complaining Alicia  buried  her  woes  in  her  own  bosom; 
and  neither  murmurs  on  the  one  hand,  nor  reproaches 
on  the  other,  were  heard. 

At  the  end  of  four  days  the  travellers  entered 
Scotland ;  and  when  they  stopped  for  the  night, 
Alicia,  fatigued  and  dispirited,  retired  immediately  to 
her  apartment. 

She  had  been  there  but  a  few  minutes  when  the 
chambermaid  knocked  at  the  door,  and  informed  her 
that  she  was  wanted  below. 

Supposing  that  Lady  Audley  had  sent  for  her,  she 
folloAved  the  girl  without  observing  that  she  was  con- 


MARRIAGE.  165 

ducted  in  an  opposite  direction  ;  when,  upon  entering 
an  apartment,  what  was  her  astonishment  at  finding 
herself,  not  in  the  presence  of  Lady  Audley,  but  in 
the  arms  of  Sir  Edmund  !  In  the  utmost  agitation, 
she  sought  to  disengage  herself  from  his  almost  frantic 
embrace;  while  he  poured  forth  a  torrent  of  rapturous 
exclamations,  and  swore  that  no  human  power  should 
ever  divide  them  again. 

"  I  have  followed  your  steps,  dearest  Alicia,  from 
the  moment  I  received  your  letter.  We  are  now  in 
Scotland — in  this  blessed  land  of  liberty.  Everything 
is  arranged ;  the  clergyman  is  now  in  waiting  ;  and 
in  five  minutes  you  shall  be  my  own  beyond  the 
power  of  fate  to  sever  us." 

Too  much  agitated  to  reply,  Alicia  wept  in  silence ; 
and  in  the  delight  of  once  more  beholding  him  she 
had  thought  never  more  to  behold,  forgot,  for  a 
moment,  the  duty  she  had  imposed  upon  herself. 
But  the  native  energy  of  her  character  returned. 
She  raised  her  head,  and  attempted  to  withdraw  from 
the  encircling  arms  of  her  cousin. 

*'  Never  until  j'ou  have  vowed  to  be  mine  !  The 
clergyman— the  carriage — everything  is  in  readiness. 
Speak  but  the  word,  dearest."  And  he  knelt  at  her 
feet. 

At  this  juncture  the  door  opened,  and,  pale  with 
rage,  her  eyes  flashing  fire.  Lady  Audley  stood  before 
them.  A  dreadful  scene  now  ensued.  Sir  Edmund 
disdained  to  enter  into  any  justification  of  his  con- 
duct, or  even  to  reply  to  the  invectives  of  his  mother. 


166  MAKRIAGE. 

but  lavished  the  most  tender  assiduities  on  Alicia ; 
who,  overcome  more  by  the  conflicts  of  her  own  heart 
than  with  alarm  at  Lady  Audley's  violence,  sat  the 
pale  and  silent  image  of  consternation. 

Baffled  by  her  son's  indignant  disregard,  Lady 
Audley  turned  all  her  fury  on  her  niece ;  and,  in  the 
most  opprobrious  terms  that  rage  could  invent,  up- 
braided her  with  deceit  and  treachery — accusing  her 
of  making  her  pretended  submission  instrumental 
to  the  more  speedy  accomplishment  of  her  marriage. 
Too  much  incensed  to  reply,  Sir  Edmund  seized  his 
cousin's  hand,  and  was  leading  her  from  the  room. 

"Go,  then — go,  marry  her;  but  first  hear  me 
swear,  solemnly  swear" — and  she  raised  her  hand 
and  eyes  to  heaven — "that  my  malediction  shall  be 
your  portion  !  Speak  but  the  word,  and  no  power 
shall  make  me  withhold  it !  " 

"  Dear  Edmund  !  "  exclaimed  Alicia,  distractedly, 
"  never  ought  I  to  have  allowed  time  for  the  terrify- 
ing words  that  have  fallen  from  Lady  Audley's  lips ; 
never  for  me  shall  your  mother's  malediction  fall  on 
you.  Farewell  for  ever ! "  and,  with  the  strength  of 
desperation,  she  rushed  past  him,  and  quitted  the 
room.  Sir  Edmund  madly  followed,  but  in  vain. 
Alicia's  feelings  were  too  highly  wrought  at  that 
moment  to  be  touched  even  by  the  man  she  loved ; 
and,  without  an  additional  pang,  she  saw  him  throw 
himself  into  the  carriage  which  he  had  destined  for 
so  diff"erent  a  purpose,  and  quit  for  ever  the  woman 
he  adored. 


MARRIAGE.  167 

It  may  easily  be  conceived  of  how  painful  a  nature 
must  have  been  the  future  intercourse  betwixt  Lady 
Audley  and  her  niece.  The  former  seemed  to  regard 
her  victim  with  that  haughty  distance  Avhich  the  un- 
relenting oppressor  never  fails  to  entertain  towards  the 
object  of  his  tyranny  •  while  even  the  gentle  Alicia, 
on  her  part,  shrank,  with  ill-concealed  abhorrence, 
from  the  presence  of  that  being  whose  stern  decree 
had  blasted  all  the  fairest  blossoms  of  her  happiness. 

Alicia  was  received  Avith  afi'ection  by  her  grand- 
father; and  she  laboured  to  drive  away  the  heavy 
despondency  which  pressed  on  her  spirits  by  study- 
ing his  taste  and  humours,  and  striving  to  contribute 
to  his  comfort  and  amusement. 

Sir  Duncan  had  chosen  the  time  of  Alicia's  arrival 
to  transact  some  business  ;  and  instead  of  return- 
ing immediately  to  the  Highlands,  he  determined  to 
remain  some  weeks  in  Edinburgh  for  her  amusement. 

But,  little  attractive  as  dissipation  had  been,  it 
was  now  absolutely  repugnant  to  Alicia.  She  loathed 
the  idea  of  mixing  in  scenes  of  amusement  with  a 
heart  incapable  of  joy,  a  spirit  indifferent  to  every 
object  that  surrounded  her;  and  in  solitude  alone 
she  expected  gradually  to  regain  her  peace  of  mind. 

In  the  amusements  of  the  gay  season  of  Edinburgh 
Alicia  expected  to  find  all  the  vanity,  emptiness,  and 
frivolity  of  London  dissipation,  without  its  varied 
brilliancy  and  elegant  luxury;  yet,  so  much  was  it 
the  habit  of  her  mind  to  look  to  the  fairest  side  of 
things,  and  to  extract  some  advantage  from  every 


168  MARRIAGE. 

situation  in  which  she  was  placed,  that  pensive  and 
thoughtful  as  was  her  disposition,  the  discriminating 
only  perceived  her  deep  dejection,  while  all  admired  her 
benevolence  of  manner  and  unaffected  desire  to  please. 

By  degrees  Alicia  found  that  in  some  points  she 
had  been  inaccurate  in  her  idea  of  the  style  of  living 
of  those  who  form  the  best  society  of  Edinburgh. 
The  circle  is  so  confined  that  its  members  are  almost 
universally  known  to  each  other ;  and  those  various 
gradations  of  gentility,  from  the  cit's  snug  party  to 
the  duchess's  most  crowded  assembly,  all  totally  dis- 
tinct and  separate,  which  are  to  be  met  with  in 
London,  have  no  prototype  in  Edinburgh.  There  the 
ranks  and  fortunes  being  more  on  an  equality,  no  one 
is  able  greatly  to  exceed  his  neighbour  in  luxury  and 
extravagance.  Great  magnificence,  and  the  consequent 
gratification  produced  by  the  envy  of  others  being  out 
of  the  question,  the  object  for  which  a  reunion  of 
individuals  was  originally  invented  becomes  less  of  a 
secondary  consideration.  Private  parties  for  the  actual 
purpose  of  society  and  conversation  are  frequent,  and 
answer  the  destined  end ;  and  in  the  societies  of  pro- 
fessed amusement  are  to  be  met  the  learned,  the 
studious,  and  the  rational ;  not  presented  as  shows  to 
the  company  by  the  host  and  hostess,  but  professedly 
seeking  their  own  gratification. 

Still  the  lack  of  beauty,  fashion,  and  elegance  dis- 
appoint the  stranger  accustomed  to  their  brilliant 
combination  in  a  London  world.  But  Alicia  had  long 
since  sickened  in  the  metropolis  at  the  frivolity  of 


MARRIAGE.  169 

beauty,  the  heartlessness  of  fashion,  and  the  insipidity 
of  elegance  ;  and  it  was  a  relief  to  her  to  turn  to  the 
variety  of  character  she  found  beneath  the  cloak  of 
simple,  eccentric,  and  sometimes  coarse  manners. 

We  are  never  long  so  totally  abstracted  by  our 
own  feelings  as  to  be  unconscious  of  the  attempts  of 
others  to  please  us.  In  Alicia,  to  be  conscious  of  it 
and  to  be  grateful  was  the  same  movement.  Yet  she 
was  sensible  that  so  many  persons  could  not  in  that 
short  period  have  become  seriously  interested  in  her. 
The  observation  did  not  escape  her  how  much  an 
English  stranger  is  looked  up  to  for  fashion  and  taste 
in  Edinburgh,  though  possessing  little  merit  save  that 
of  being  English ;  yet  she  felt  gratified  and  thankful 
for  the  kindness  and  attention  that  greeted  her  ap- 
pearance on  all  sides. 

Amongst  the  many  who  expressed  goodwill  towards 
Alicia  there  were  a  few  whose  kindness  and  real  affec- 
tion failed  not  to  meet  with  a  return  from  her ;  and 
others  whose  rich  and  varied  powers  of  mind  for  the 
first  time  afforded  her  a  true  specimen  of  the  exalting 
enjoyment  produced  by  a  communion  of  intellect. 
She  felt  the  powers  of  her  understanding  enlarge  in 
proportion ;  and,  with  this  mental  activity,  she  sought 
to  solace  the  languor  of  her  heart  and  save  it  from 
the  listlessness  of  despair. 

Alicia  had  been  about  six  weeks  in  Edinburgh 
when  she  received  a  letter  from  Lady  Audley.  No 
allusions  were  made  to  the  past;  she  wrote  upon 
general  topics,  in  the  cold  manner  that  might  be  used 


170  MAERIAGE. 

to  a  common  acquaintance ;  and  slightly  named  her 
son  as  having  set  out  upon  a  tour  to  the  Continent. 

Alicia's  heart  was  heavy  as  she  read  the  heartless 
letter  of  the  woman  whose  cruelty  had  not  been  able 
to  eradicate  wholly  from  her  breast  the  strong  durable 
aflfection  of  early  habit. 

Sir  Duncan  and  Alicia  spent  two  months  in  Edin- 
burgh, at  the  end  of  which  time  they  went  to  his 

country  seat  in shire.     The  adjacent  country  was 

picturesque;  and  Sir  Duncan's  residence,  though  bear- 
ing marks  of  the  absence  of  taste  and  comfort  in  its 
arrangements,  possessed  much  natural-beauty. 

Two  years  of  tranquil  seclusion  had  passed  over 
her  head  when  her  dormant  feelings  were  all  aroused 
by  a  letter  from  Sir  Edmund.  It  informed  her  that 
he  was  now  of  age  ;  that  his  affection  remained  un- 
alterable; that  he  was  newly  arrived  from  abroad ;  and 
that,  notwithstanding  the  death-blow  she  had  given 
to  his  hopes,  he  could  not  refrain,  on  returning  to  his 
native  laud,  from  assuring  her  that  he  was  resolved 
never  to  pay  his  addresses  to  any  other  woman.  He 
concluded  by  declaring  his  intention  of  presenting 
himself  at  once  to  Sir  Duncan,  and  soliciting  his  per- 
mission to  claim  her  hand  :  when  all  scruples  relating 
to  Lady  Audle}^  must,  from  her  change  of  abode,  be 
at  an  end. 

Alicia  read  the  letter  with  grateful  affection  and 
poignant  regret.  Again  she  shed  the  bitter  tears  of 
disappointment,  at  the  hard  task  of  refusing  for  a 
second  time  so  noble  and  affectionate  a  heart     But 


MARRIAGE.  171 

conscience  whispered  that  to  hold  a  passive  line  of 
conduct  would  be,  in  some  measure,  to  deceive  Lady 
Audley's  expectations ;  and  she  felt,  with  exquisite 
anguish,  that  she  had  no  means  to  put  a  final  stop  to 
Sir  Edmund's  pursuits,  and  to  her  own  trials,  but  by 
bestowing  her  hand  on  another.  The  first  dawning 
of  this  idea  was  accompanied  by  the  most  violent 
burst  of  anguish ;  but,  far  from  driving  away  the 
painful  subject,  she  strove  to  render  it  less  appalling 
by  dwelling  upon  it,  and  labouring  to  reconcile  herself 
to  what  seemed  her  only  plan  of  conduct.  She 
acknowledged  to  herself  that,  to  remain  still  single,  a 
prey  to  Sir  Edmund's  importunities  and  the  continual 
temptations  of  her  own  heart,  was,  for  the  sake  of 
present  indulgence,  submitting  to  a  fiery  ordeal,  from 
which  she  could  not  escape  unblamable  Avithout  the 
most  repeated  and  agonising  conflicts. 

Three  months  still  remained  for  her  of  peace  and 
liberty,  after  which  Sir  Duncan  would  go  to  Edinburgh. 
There  she  would  be  sure  of  meeting  with  the  loved 
companion  of  her  youthful  days ;  and  the  lurking 
weakness  of  her  own  breast  would  then  be  seconded 
by  the  passionate  eloquence  of  the  being  she  most 
loved  and  admired  upon  earth. 

She  wrote  to  him,  repeating  her  former  arguments; 
declaring  that  she  could  never  feel  herself  absolved 
from  the  promise  she  had  given  Lady  Audley  but  by 
that  lady  herself,  and  imploring  him  to  abandon  a 
pursuit  which  would  be  productive  only  of  lasting  pain 
to  both. 


172  MAERIAGE. 

Her  arguments,  her  representations,  all  failed  in 
their  effect  on  Sir  Edmund's  impetuous  character. 
His  answer  was  short  and  decided ;  the  purport  of  it, 
that  he  should  see  her  in  Edinburgh  the  moment  she 
arrived  there. 

"  My  fate  then  is  fixed,"  thought  Alicia,  as  she  read 
this  letter;  "I  must  finish  the  sacrifice." 

The  more  severe  had  been  the  struggle  between 
love  and  victorious  duty,  the  more  firmly  was  she 
determined  to  maintain  this  dear-bought  victory. 

Alicia's  resolution  of  marrying  was  now  decided, 
and  the  opportunity  was  not  wanting.  She  had 
become  acquainted,  during  the  preceding  winter  in 
Edinburgh,  with  Major  Douglas,  eldest  son  of  Mr, 
Douglas  of  Glenfern.  He  had  then  paid  her  the  most 
marked  attention ;  and,  since  her  return  to  the  country, 
had  been  a  frequent  visitor  at  Sir  Duncan's.  At  length 
he  avowed  his  partiality,  which  was  heard  by  Sir 
Duncan  with  pleasure,  by  Alicia  with  dread  and  sub- 
mission. Yet  she  felt  less  repugnance  towards  him 
than  to  any  other  of  her  suitors.  He  was  pleasing  in 
his  person ;  quiet  and  simple  in  his  manners ;  and  his 
character  stood  high  for  integrity,  good  temper,  and 
plain  sense.  The  sequel  requires  little  further  detail. 
Alicia  Malcolm  became  the  wife  of  Archibald  Douglas. 

An  eternal  constancy  is  a  thing  so  rare  to  be  met 
with,  that  persons  who  desire  that  sort  of  reputation 
strive  to  obtain  it  by  nourishing  the  ideas  that  recall 
the  passion,  even  though  guilt  and  sorrow  should  go 
hand  in  hand  with  it.     But  Alicia,  far  from  piquing 


MAKRIAGE.  173 

herself  in  the  lovelorn  pensiveness  she  might  have 
assumed,  had  she  yielded  to  the  impulse  of  her  feel- 
ings, diligently  strove  not  only  to  make  up  her  mind 
to  the  lot  which  had  devolved  to  her,  but  to  bring  it 
to  such  a  frame  of  cheerfulness  as  should  enable  her 
to  contribute  to  her  husband's  happiness. 

When  the  soul  is  no  longer  buffeted  by  the  storms 
of  hope  or  fear,  when  all  is  fixed  unchangeably  for 
life,  sorrow  for  the  past  will  never  long  prey  on  a 
pious  and  well-regulated  mind.  If  Alicia  lost  the 
buoyant  spirit  of  youth,  the  bright  and  quick  play  of 
fancy,  yet  a  placid  contentment  crowned  her  days; 
and  at  the  end  of  two  years  she  would  have  been 
astonished  had  any  one  marked  her  as  an  object  of 
compassion. 

She  scarcely  ever  heard  from  Lady  Audley ;  and 
in  the  few  letters  her  aunt  had  favoured  her  with,  she 
gave  favourable,  though  vague  accounts  of  her  son. 
Alicia  did  not  court  a  more  unreserved  communication, 
and  had  long  since  taught  herself  to  hope  that  he  was 
now  happy.  Soon  after  their  marriage  Major  Douglas 
quitted  the  army,  upon  succeeding  to  a  small  estate  on 
the  banks  of  Lochmarlie  by  the  death  of  an  uncle ; 
and  there,  in  the  calm  seclusion  of  domestic  life,  Mrs. 
Douglas  found  that  peace  Avhich  might  have  been 
denied  her  amid  gayer  scenes. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

"And  joyous  was  the  scene  in  early  summer." 

Madoc. 

On  Henry's  return  from  his  solitary  ramble  Mrs. 
Douglas  learnt  from  him  the  cause  of  the  misunder- 
standing that  had  taken  place  ;  and  judging  that,  in 
the  present  state  of  affairs,  a  temporary  separation 
might  be  of  use  to  both  parties,  as  they  were  now 
about  to  return  home  she  proposed  to  her  husband 
to  invite  his  brother  and  Lady  Juliana  to  follow  and 
spend  a  few  weeks  with  them  at  Lochmarlie  Cottage. 

The  invitation  was  eagerly  accepted  ;  for  though 
Lady  Juliana  did  not  anticipate  any  positive  pleasure 
from  the  change,  still  she  thought  that  every  place 
must  be  more  agreeable  than  her  present  abode, 
especially  as  she  stipulated  for  the  utter  exclusion  of 
the  aunts  from  the  party.  To  atone  for  this  mortifi- 
cation Miss  Becky  was  invited  to  fill  the  vacant  seat 
in  the  carriage ;  and,  accordingly,  with  a  cargo  of 
strong  shoes,  greatcoats,  and  a  large  work-bag  Avell 
stuffed  with  white-seam,  she  took  her  place  at  the 
appointed  hour. 

The  day  they  had  chosen  for  their  expedition  was 
one  that  "  sent  a  summer  feeling  to  the  heart." 


MARRIAGE.  175 

The  air  was  soft  and  genial ;  not  a  cloud  stained 
llie  bright  azure  of  the  heavens ;  and  the  sun  shone 
out  in  all  his  splendour,  shedding  life  and  beauty  even 
over  all  the  desolate  heath-clad  hills  of  Glenfern.  But, 
after  they  had  journeyed  a  few  miles,  suddenly  emerg- 
ing from  the  valley,  a  scene  of  matchless  beauty  burst 
at  once  ujjon  the  eye.  Before  them  lay  the  dark-blue 
waters  of  Lochmarlie,  reflecting,  as  in  a  mirror,  every 
surrounding  object,  and  bearing  on  its  placid  trans- 
parent bosom  a  fleet  of  herring -boats,  the  drapery 
of  whose  black  suspended  nets  contrasted  with  pic- 
turesque effect  the  white  sails  of  the  larger  vessels, 
which  were  vainly  spread  to  catch  a  breeze.  All 
around,  rocks,  meadows,  woods,  and  hills,  mingled  in 
wild  and  lovely  irregularity. 

On  a  projecting  point  of  land  stood  a  little  fishing 
village,  its  white  cottages  reflected  in  the  glassy 
waters  that  almost  surrounded  it.  On  the  opposite 
side  of  the  la,ke,  or  rather  estuary,  embosomed  in 
wood,  rose  the  lofty  turrets  of  Lochmarlie  Castle ; 
while  here  and  there,  perched  on  some  mountain's 
brow,  were  to  be  seen  the  shepherd's  lonely  hut,  and 
the  heath-covered  summer  shealing. 

Not  a  breath  was  stirring,  not  a  sound  was  heard 
save  the  rushing  of  a  waterfall,  the  tinkling  of  some 
silver  rivulet,  or  the  calm  rippling  of  the  tranquil 
lake ;  now  and  then,  at  intervals,  the  fisherman's 
Gaelic  ditty  chanted,  as  he  lay  stretched  on  the  sand 
in  some  sunny  nook ;  or  the  shrill  distant  sound  of 
childish  glee.     How  delicious  to  the  feelina;  heart  to 


176  MARllIAGE. 

behold  so  fair  a  scene  of'  unsophisticated  Nature,  and 
to  listen  to  her  voice  alone,  breathing  the  accents  of 
innocence  and  joy  ! 

But  none  of  the  party  who  now  gazed  on  it  had 
minds  capable  of  being  touched  with  the  emotions  it 
was  calculated  to  inspire. 

Henry,  indeed,  was  rapturous  in  his  expressions 
of  admiration ;  but  he  concluded  his  panegyrics  by 
wondering  his  brother  did  not  keep  a  cutter,  and 
resolving  to  pass  a  night  on  board  one  of  the  herring 
boats,  that  he  might  eat  the  fish  in  perfection. 

Lady  Juliana  thought  it  might  be  very  pretty,  if, 
instead  of  those  frightful  rocks  and  shabby  cottages, 
there  could  be  villas,  and  gardens,  and  lawns,  and 
conservatories,  and  summer-houses,  and  statues. 

Miss  Becky  observed,  if  it  was  hers,  she  would 
cut  down  the  woods,  and  level  the  hills,  and  have 
races. 

The  road  wound  along  the  sides  of  the  lake,  some- 
times overhung  with  banks  of  natural  wood,  which, 
though  scarcely  budding,  grew  so  thick  as  to  exclude 
the  prospect;  in  other  places  surmounted  by  large 
masses  of  rock,  festooned  with  ivy,  and  embroidered 
by  mosses  of  a  thousand  hues  that  glittered  under  the 
little  mountain  streamlets.  Two  miles  farther  on 
stood  the  simple  mansion  of  Mr.  Douglas.  It  was 
situated  in  a  Avild  sequestered  nook,  formed  by  a  little 
bay  at  the  farther  end  of  the  lake.  On  three  sides  it 
was  surrounded  by  wooded  hills  that  offered  a  com- 
plete shelter  from  every  nipping  blast.     To  the  south 


MARRIAGE.  177 

the  lawn,  sprinkled  with  trees  and  shrubs,  sloped 
gradually  down  to  the  water. 

At  the  door  they  were  met  by  Mrs.  Douglas,  who 
welcomed  them  with  the  most  affectionate  cordiality, 
and  conducted  them  into  the  house  through  a  little 
circular  hall,  filled  with  flowering  shrubs  and  foreign 
plants. 

"How  delightful !"  exclaimed  Lady  Juliana,  as  she 
stopped  to  inhale  the  rich  fragrance.  "  Moss  roses  ! 
I  do  delight  in  them,"  twisting  off"  a  rich  cluster  of 
flowers  and  buds  in  token  of  her  aff"ection;  "and  I 
quite  doat  upon  heliotrope,"  gathering  a  handful  of 
flowers  as  she  spoke.  Then  extending  her  hand  to- 
wards a  most  luxuriant  Cape  jessamine — 

"I  must  really  petition  you  to  spare  this,  my 
favourite  child,"  said  her  sister-in-law,  as  she  gently 
withheld  her  arm;  "and,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  dear 
Lady  Juliana,  you  have  already  infringed  the  rules  of 
my  little  conservatory,  which  admit  only  of  the  grati- 
fication of  two  senses — seeing  and  smelling." 

"What !  don't  you  like  your  flowers  to  be  gathered  1" 
exclaimed  Lady  Juliana  in  a  tone  of  surprise  and  dis- 
appointment ;  "I  don't  know  any  other  use  they're  of. 
What  quantities  I  used  to  have  from  Papa's  hothouses !" 

Mrs.  Douglas  made  no  reply ;  but  conducted  her 
to  the  drawing-room,  where  her  chagrin  was  dispelled 
by  the  appearance  of  comfort  and  even  elegance  that 
it  bore.  "  Now,  this  is  really  what  I  like,"  cried  she, 
throwing  herself  on  one  of  the  couches  ;  "  a  large  fire, 
open  windows,  quantities  of  roses,  comfortable  Otto- 

VOL  I.  N  M. 


178  MARKIAGE. 

mans,  and  pictures ;  only  what  a  pity  you  haven't  a 
larger  mirror." 

Mrs.  Douglas  now  rang  for  refrcsliments,  and 
apologised  for  the  absence  of  her  husband,  who,  she 
said,  was  so  much  interested  in  his  ploughing  that 
he  seldom  made  his  appearance  till  sent  for. 

Henry  then  proposed  that  they  should  all  go  out 
and  surprise  his  brother ;  and  though  walking  in  the 
country  formed  no  part  of  Lady  Juliana's  amusements, 
yet,  as  Mrs.  Douglas  assured  her  the  walks  were 
perfectly  dry,  and  her  husband  was  so  pressing,  she 
consented.  The  way  lay  through  a  shrubbery,  by  the 
side  of  a  brawling  brook,  whose  banks  retained  all 
the  wildness  of  unadorned  nature.  Moss  and  ivy 
and  fern  clothed  the  ground ;  and  under  the  banks 
the  young  primroses  and  violets  began  to  raise  their 
heads ;  while  the  red  wintry  berry  still  hung  thick 
on  the  hollies. 

"  This  is  really  very  pleasant,"  said  Henry,  stopping 
to  contemplate  a  view  of  the  lake  through  the  branches 
of  a  weeping  birch  ;  "  the  sound  of  the  stream,  and 
the  singing  of  the  birds,  and  all  those  wild  flowers 
make  it  appear  as  if  it  was  summer  in  this  spot ;  and 
only  look,  Julia,  how  pretty  that  wherry  looks  lying 
at  anchor."  Then  whispering  to  her,  "What  would 
you  think  of  such  a  desert  as  this,  with  the  man  of 
your  heart  1 " 

Lady  Juliana  made  no  reply  but  by  complaining 
of  the  heat  of  the  sun,  the  hardness  of  the  gravel,  and 
the  damp  from  the  water. 


MARRIAGE.  179 

Henry,  who  now  began  to  look  upon  the  condition 
of  a  Highland  farmer  with  more  complacency  than 
formerly,  was  confirmed  in  his  favourable  sentiments 
at  sight  of  his  brother,  following  the  primitive  occupa- 
tion of  the  plough,  his  fine  face  glowing  with  health, 
and  lighted  up  with  good  humour  and  happiness. 
He  hastily  advanced  towards  the  party,  and  shaking 
his  brother  and  sister-in-law  most  warmly  by  the 
hand,  expressed,  with  all  the  warmth  of  a  good  heart, 
the  pleasure  he  had  in  receiving  them  at  his  house. 
Then  observing  Lady  Juliana's  languid  air,  and  im- 
puting to  fatigue  of  body  what,  in  fact,  was  the  con- 
sequence of  mental  vacuity,  he  proposed  returning 
home  by  a  shorter  road  than  that  by  which  they  had 
come.  Henry  was  again  in  raptures  at  the  new 
beauties  this  walk  presented,  and  at  the  high  order 
and  neatness  in  which  the  grounds  were  kept. 

"This  must  be  a  very  expensive  place  of  yours, 
though,"  said  he,  addressing  his  sister-in-law  ;  "  there 
is  so  much  garden  and  shrubbery,  and  such  a  number 
of  rustic  bridges,  bowers,  and  so  forth  :  it  must  re- 
quire half  a  dozen  men  to  keep  it  in  any  order." 

"  Such  an  establishment  would  very  ill  accord  with 
our  moderate  means,"  replied  she ;  "  we  do  not  pre- 
tend to  one  regular  gardener ;  and  had  our  little 
embellishments  been  productive  of  much  expense,  or 
tending  solely  to  my  gratification,  I  should  never  have 
suggested  them.  When  we  first  took  possession  of 
this  spot  it  was  a  perfect  wilderness,  with  a  diity 
farm-house  on  it ;  nothing  but  mud  about  the  doors ; 


180  MARRIAGE. 

nothing  but  wood  and  briers  and  brambles  beyond  it; 
and  the  village  j^resented  a  still  more  melancholy  scene 
of  rank  luxuriance,  in  its  swarms  of  dirty  idle  girls 
and  mischievous  boys.  I  have  generally  found  that 
wherever  an  evil  exists  the  remedy  is  not  far  off; 
and  in  this  case  it  was  strikingly  obvious.  It  was 
only  engaging  these  ill-directed  children  by  trifling 
rewards  to  apply  their  lively  energies  in  improving 
instead  of  destroying  the  works  of  nature,  as  had 
formerly  been  their  zealous  practice.  In  a  short  time 
the  change  on  the  moral  as  well  as  the  vegetable  part 
of  creation  became  very  preceptible :  the  children 
grew  industrious  and  peaceable ;  and  instead  of 
destroying  trees,  robbing  nests,  and  worrying  cats, 
the  bigger  boys,  under  Douglas's  direction,  con- 
structed these  wooden  bridges  and  seats,  or  cut  out 
and  gravelled  the  little  winding  paths  that  we  had 
previously  marked  out.  The  task  of  keeping  every- 
thing in  order  is  now  easy,  as  you  may  believe,  when 
I  tell  you  the  whole  of  our  pleasure-grounds,  as  you 
are  pleased  to  term  them,  receive  nq  other  attention 
than  what  is  bestowed  by  children  under  twelve 
years  of  age.  And  now,  having,  I  hope,  acquitted 
myself  of  the  charge  of  extravagance,  I  ought  to  beg 
Lady  Juliana's  pardon  for  this  long,  and,  I  fear,  tire- 
some detail." 

Having  now  reached  the  house,  Mrs.  Douglas  con- 
ducted her  guest  to  the  apartment  prepared  for  her, 
while  the  brothers  pursued  their  walk. 

As  long  as  novelty  retained  its  power,  and  the 


MARRIAGE.  181 

comparison  between  Glenfern  and  Lochmarlie  was 
fresh  in  remembrance,  Lady  Juliana,  charmed  with 
everything,  was  in  high  good-humour. 

But  as  the  horrors  of  the  one  were  forgotten,  and 
the  comforts  of  the  other  became  famihar,  the  demon 
of  ennui  again  took  possession  of  her  vacant  mind, 
and  she  relapsed  into  all  her  capricious  humours  and 
childish  impertinences.  The  harpsichord,  which,  on 
her  first  arrival,  she  had  pronounced  to  be  excellent, 
was  now  declared  quite  shocking;  so  much  out  of 
tune  that  there  was  no  possibility  of  playing  upon  it. 
The  small  collection  of  well -chosen  novels  she  soon 
exhausted,  and  then  they  became  "  the  stupidest 
books  she  had  ever  read ;"  the  smell  of  the  heliotrope 
now  gave  her  the  headache;  the  sight  of  the  lake 
made  her  sea-sick. 

Mrs.  Douglas  heard  all  these  civilities  in  silence, 
and  much  more  "in  sorrow  than  in  anger."  In  the 
wayward  inclinations,  variable  temper,  and  wretched 
inanity  of  this  poor  victim  of  indulgence,  she  beheld 
the  sad  fruits  of  a  fashionable  education  ;  and  thought 
with  humility  that,  under  similar  circumstances,  such 
might  have  been  her  own  character. 

"  Oh,  what  an  awful  responsibility  do  those  parents 
incur,"  she  would  mentally  exclaim,  "who  thus  ne- 
glect or  corrupt  the  noble  deposit  of  an  immortal  soul ! 
And  who,  alas  !  can  tell  where  the  mischief  may  end  ? 
This  unfortunate  will  herself  become  a  mother ;  yet 
wholly  ignorant  of  the  duties,  incapable  of  the  self- 
denial  of  that  sacred  office,  she  Avill  bring  into  the 


182  MAREIAGE. 

world  creatures  to  whom  she  can  only  transmit  her 
errors  and  her  weaknesses  ! " 

These  reflections  at  times  deeply  affected  the 
generous  heart  and  truly  Christian  spirit  of  Mrs. 
Douglas ;  and  she  sought,  by  every  means  in  her 
power,  to  restrain  those  faults  which  she  knew  it 
would  be  vain  to  attempt  eradicating. 

To  diversify  the  routine  of  days  which  grew  more 
and  more  tedious  to  Lady  Juliana,  the  weather  being 
remarkably  fine,  many  little  excursions  were  made 
to  the  nearest  country  seats  ;  which,  though  they 
did  not  afford  her  any  actual  pleasure,  answered  the 
purpose  of  consuming  a  considerable  portion  of  her 
time. 

Several  weeks  passed  away,  during  which  little 
inclination  was  shown  on  the  part  of  the  guests  to 
quit  their  present  residence,  when  Mr,  and  Mrs. 
Douglas  were  summoned  to  attend  the  sick-bed  of 
Sir  Duncan  Malcolm ;  and  though  they  pressed  their 
guests  to  remain  during  their  absence,  yet  Henry  felt 
that  it  would  be  highly  offensive  to  his  father  were 
they  to  do  so,  and  therefore  resolved  immediately  to 
return  to  Glenfern. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

"  They  steeked  doors,  they  steeked  yetts, 
Close  to  the  cheek  and  chin  ; 
They  steeked  them  a'  but  a  little  wicket, 
And  Lamniikin  crap  in. 

*'  Now  quhere's  the  lady  of  this  castle  ?" 

OU  Ballad. 

The  party  were  received  with  the  loudest  acclama- 
tions of  joy  by  the  good  old  ladies ;  and  even  the 
Laird  seemed  to  have  forgotten  that  his  son  had  refused 
to  breed  black  cattle,  and  that  his  daughter-in-law  was 
above  the  management  of  her  household. 

The  usual  salutations  were  scarcely  over  when  Miss 
Grizzy,  flying  to  her  little  writing-box,  pulled  out  a 
letter,  and,  with  an  air  of  importance,  having  enjoined 
silence,  she  read  as  follows  : — 

"LocHMARLiE  Castle,  3Iarch  27,  17 — . 
"Dear  Child — Sir  Sampson's  stomach  has  been  as 
bad  as  it  could  well  be,  but  not  so  l)ad  as  your  roads. 
He  was  shook  to  a  jelly.  My  petticoat  will  never  do. 
Mrs.  M'Hall  has  had  a  girl.  I  wonder  what  makes 
people  have  girls ;  they  never  come  to  good.  Boys 
may  go  to  the  mischief,  and  be  good  for  something — 
if  girls  go,  they're  good  for  nothing  I  know  of.     I 


184  MAERIAGE. 

never  saw  such  roads.  I  suppose  Glenfern  means  to 
bury  you  all  in  the  highway ;  there  are  holes  enough 
to  make  you  graves,  and  stones  big  enough  for  coffins. 
You  must  all  come  and  spend  Tuesday  here — not  all, 
but  some  of  you — you,  dear  child,  and  your  brother, 
and  a  sister,  and  your  pretty  niece,  and  handsome 
nephew — ^I  love  handsome  people.  Miss  M'Kraken 
has  bounced  away  with  her  father's  footman — I  hope 
he  will  clean  his  knives  on  her.  Come  early,  and 
come  dressed,  to  your  loving  friend, 

"  Isabella  Maclaughlan." 

The  letter  ended,  a  volley  of  applause  ensued,  which 
at  length  gave  place  to  consultation.  "  Of  course  we 
all  go — at  least  as  many  as  the  carriage  will  hold  : 
we  have  no  engagements,  and  there  can  be  no  objec- 
tions." 

Lady  Juliana  had  already  frowned  a  contemptuous 
refusal,  but  in  due  time  it  was  changed  to  a  sullen 
assent,  at  the  pressing  entreaties  of  her  husband,  to 
whom  any  place  was  now  preferable  to  home.  In 
truth,  the  mention  of  a  party  had  more  weight  with 
her  than  either  her  husband's  wishes  or  her  aunts' 
remonstrances ;  and  they  had  assured  her  that  she 
should  meet  with  a  large  assemblage  of  the  very  first 
company  at  Lochmarlie  Castle. 

The  day  appointed  for  the  important  visit  arrived  ; 
and  it  was  arranged  that  two  of  the  elder  ladies  and 
one  of  the  young  ones  should  accompany  Lady  Juli- 
ana in  her  barouche,  which  Henry  was  to  drive. 


] 


MARKIAGtf.  185 

At  peep  of  dawn  the  ladies  ^ye^e  astir,  and  at  eight 
o'clock  breakfast  was  hurried  over  that  they  might 
begin  the  preparations  necessary  for  appearing  with 
dignity  at  the  shrine  of  this  their  patron  saint.  At 
eleven  they  reappeared  in  all  the  majesty  of  sweeping 
silk  trains  and  well-powdered  toupees.  In  outward 
show  Miss  Becky  Avas  not  less  elaborate ;  the  united 
strength  and  skill  of  her  three  aunts  and  four  sisters 
liad  evidently  been  exerted  in  forcing  her  hair  into 
every  position  but  that  for  Avhich  nature  had  intended 
it  j  curls  stood  on  end  around  her  forehead,  and  tresses 
were  dragged  up  from  the  roots,  and  formed  into  a 
club  on  the  crown ;  her  arms  had  been  strapped  back 
till  her  elbows  met,  by  means  of  a  pink  ribbon  of  no 
ordinary  strength  or  doubtful  hue. 

Three  hours  were  past  in  all  the  anguish  of  full- 
di'essed  impatience ;  an  anguish  in  which  every  female 
breast  must  be  ready  to  sjmpathise.  But  Lady 
Juliana  sympathised  in  no  one's  distresses  but  her 
own,  and  the  difference  of  waiting  in  high  dress  or  in 
deshabille  was  a  distinc  ion  to  her  inconceivable.  But 
those  to  whom  to  he  dressed  is  an  event  will  readily 
enter  into  the  feelings  of  the  ladies  in  question  as 
they  sat,  walked,  wondered,  exclaimed,  opened  win- 
dows, wrung  their  hands,  adjusted  their  dress,  etc. 
etc.,  during  the  three  tedious  hours  they  were  doomed 
to  wait  the  appearance  of  their  niece. 

Two  o'clock  came,  and  with  it  Lady  Juliana,  as  if 
purposely  to  testify  her  contempt,  in  a  loose  morning 
dress  and  mob  cap.     The  sisters  looked  blank  with 


186  MAREIA.GE. 

disappointment;  for  having  made  themselves  mis- 
tresses of  the  contents  of  her  ladyship's  wardrobe, 
they  had  settled  amongst  themselves  that  the  most 
suitable  dress  for  the  occasion  would  be  black  velvet, 
and  accordingly  many  hints  had  been  given  the  pre- 
ceding evening  on  the  virtues  of  black  velvet  gowns. 
They  were  warm,  and  not  too  warm ;  they  were 
dressy,  and  not  too  dressy ;  Lady  Maclaughlan  was  a 
great  admirer  of  black  velvet  gowns;  she  had  one 
herself  with  long  sleeves,  and  that  buttoned  behind ; 
black  velvet  gowns  were  very  much  wore ;  they  knew 
several  ladies  who  had  them ;  and  they  were  certain 
there  would  be  nothing  else  wore  amongst  the  matrons 
at  Lady  Maclaughlan's,  etc.  etc. 

Time  was,  however,  too  precious  to  be  given  either 
to  remonstrance  or  lamentation.  Miss  Jacky  could 
only  give  an  angry  look,  and  Miss  Grizzy  a  sorrowful 
one,  as  they  hurried  away  to  the  carriage,  uttering 
exclamations  of  despair  at  the  lateness  of  the  hour, 
and  the  impossibility  that  anybody  could  have  time 
to  dress  after  getting  to  Lochmarlie  Castle. 

The  consequence  of  the  delay  was  that  it  was  dark 
by  the  time  they  reached  the  place  of  destination. 
The  carriage  drove  up  to  the  grand  entrance;  but 
neither  lights  nor  servants  greeted  their  arrival ; 
and  no  answer  was  returned  to  the  ringing  of  the 
bell.     . 

"  This  is  most  alarming,  I  declare  ! "  cried  Miss 
Grizzy. 

"It   is   quite   incomprehensible!''    observed   Miss 


MARRIAGE.  187 

Jacky.  "We  had  best  get  out  and  try  the  back 
door." 

The  part}''  alighted,  and  another  attack  being  made 
upon  the  rear,  it  met  with  better  success  ;  for  a  little 
boy  now  presented  himself  at  a  narrow  opening  of 
the  door,  and  in  a  strong  Highland  accent  demanded 
"  wha  ta  war  seekin'  ? " 

"Lady  Maclaughlan,  to  be  sure,  Colin,"  was  the 
reply. 

"^Yeel,  weel,"  still  refusing  admittance;  "but  te 
leddie's  no  to  be  spoken  wi'  to-night." 

"  Not  to  be  spoken  with  !"  exclaimed  Miss  Grizzy, 
almost  sinking  to  the  ground  with  apprehension. 
"Good  gracious! — I  hope! — I  declare! — Sir  Samp- 
son ! " 

"Oo  ay,  hur  may  see  Lochmarlie  hurseL"  Then 
opening  the  door,  he  led  the  way,  and  ushered  them 
into  the  presence  of  Sir  Sampson,  who  Avas  reclining 
in  an  easy  chair,  arrayed  in  a  robe  de  chamhre  and  night- 
cap. The  opening  of  the  door  seemed  to  have  broken 
his  slumber ;  for,  gazing  around  \nih  a  look  of  stupe- 
faction, he  demanded  in  a  sleepy  peevish  tone,  "Who 
was  there?" 

"Bless  me,  Sir  Sampson  !"  exclaimed  both  spinsters 
at  once,  darting  forward  and  seizing  a  hand ;  "  bless 
me,  don't  you  know  us?  And  here  is  our  niece, 
Lady  Juliana." 

"My  Lady  Juliana  Douglas!"  cried  he,  with  a 
shriek  of  hori'or,  sinking  again  upon  his  cushions.  "  I 
am  betrayed — I — Where  is  my  Lady  Maclaughlan  l — 


188  MARRIAGE. 

Where  is  Philistine  1 — Where  is — the  devil !  This  is 
not  to  be  borne !  My  Lady  Juliana  Douglas,  the 
Earl  of  Courtland's  daughter,  to  be  introduced  to 
Lochmarlie  Castle  in  so  vile  a  manner,  and  myself 
surprised  in  so  indecorous  a  situation ! "  And,  his 
lips  quivering  with  passion,  he  rang  the  bell. 

The  summons  was  answered  by  the  same  attendant 
that  had  acted  as  gentleman  usher. 

"Where  are  all  my  people?"  demanded  his  in- 
censed master. 

"Hurs  aw  awa  tull  ta  Sandy  More's." 

"  Where  is  my  Lady  1 " 

"Hurs  i'  ta  teach  tap."^ 

"  Where  is  Murdoch  ? " 

"Hur's  helpin'  ta  leddie  i'  ta  teach  tap," 

"  Oh,  we'll  all  go  upstairs,  and  see  what  Lady  Mac- 
laughlan  and  Philistine  are  about  in  the  laboratory," 
said  Miss  Grizzy.  "So  pray,  just  go  on  with  your 
nap.  Sir  Sampson  ;  Ave  shall  find  the  way — don't  stir ;" 
and  taking  Lady  Juliana  by  the  hand,  aAvay  tripped 
the  spinsters  in  search  of  their  friend.  "I  cannot 
conceive  the  meaning  of  all  this,"  whispered  Miss 
Grizzy  to  her  sister  as  they  went  along.  "  Something 
must  be  wrong ;  but  I  said  nothing  to  dear  Sir  Samp- 
son, his  nerves  are  so  easily  agitated.  But  what  can 
be  the  meaning  of  all  this?  I  declare  it's  quite  a 
mystery." 

After  ascending  several  long  dark  stairs,  and  follow- 
ing divers  windings  and  turnings,  the  party  at  length 
^  House  top. 


MAKKIAGE.  189 

reached  the  door  of  the  sanctum  sandorum,  and  haA-ing 
gently  tapped,  the  voice  of  the  priestess  was  heard  in 
no  very  encouraging  accents,  demanding  "  Who  was 
there  ? " 

"  It's  only  us,"  replied  her  trembling  friend. 

"  Only  us  1  humph  !  I  wonder  what  fool  is  called 
only  us/  Open  the  door,  Philistine,  and  see  what 
only  us  wants." 

The  door  was  opened  and  the  party  entered.  The 
day  was  closing  in,  but  by  the  faint  twilight  that 
mingled  with  the  gleams  from  a  smoky  smouldering 
fire,  Lady  Maclaughlan  was  dimly  discernible,  as  she 
stood  upon  the  hearth,  watching  the  contents  of  an 
enormous  kettle  that  emitted  both  steam  and  odour. 
She  regarded  the  invaders  with  her  usual  marble 
aspect,  and  without  moving  either  joint  or  muscle  as 
they  drew  near. 

"  I  declare — I  don't  think  you  know  us,  Lady  Mac- 
laughlan," said  Miss  Grizzy  in  a  tone  of  affected 
vivacity,  with  which  she  strove  to  conceal  her  agi- 
tation. 

"Know  you!"  repeated  her  friend — "humph! 
Who  you  are,  I  know  very  well ;  but  what  brings  you 
here,  I  do  not  know.     Do  you  know  yourselves  1 " 

"I    declare — I   can't    conceive "   began   Miss 

Grizzy ;  but  her  trepidation  arrested  her  speech,  and 
her  sister  therefore  proceeded — 

"  Your  ladyship's  declaration  is  no  less  astonishing 
than  incomprehensible.  We  have  waited  upon  you 
by  your  own  express  invitation  on  the  day  appointed 


190  MARRIAGE. 

l»y  yourself ;  and  we  have  been  received  in  a  manner, 
I  must  say,  we  did  not  expect,  considering  this  is  the 
first  visit  of  our  niece  Lady  Juliana  Douglas." 

"  I'll  tell  you  what,  girls,"  replied  their  friend,  as 
she  still  stood  with  her  back  to  the  fire,  and  her  hands 
behind  her ;  "  I'll  tell  you  what, — you  are  not  your- 
selves— you  are  all  lost — quite  mad — that's  all — 
humph  !" 

"  If  that's  the  case,  we  cannot  be  fit  company  for 
your  ladyship,"  retorted  Miss  Jacky  warmly;  "and 
therefore  the  best  thing  we  can  do  is  to  return  the 
way  we  came.     Come,  Lady  Juliana — come,  sister." 

"  I  declare,  Jacky,  the  impetuosity  of  your  temper 

is — I    really   cannot   stand    it "  and   the  gentle 

Grizzy  gave  way  to  a  flood  of  tears. 

"You  used  to  be  rational,  intelligent  creatures," 
resumed  her  ladyship ;  "  but  what  has  come  over 
you,  I  don't  know.  You  come  tumbling  in  here  at  the 
middle  of  the  night— and  at  the  top  of  the  house  — 
nobody  knows  how — when  I  never  was  thinking  of 
you  ;  and  because  I  don't  tell  a  parcel  of  lies,  and 
pretend  I  expected  you,  you  are  for  flying  off"  again — 
humph !  Is  this  the  behaviour  of  women  in  their 
senses  1  But  since  you  are  here,  you  may  as  well  sit 
down  and  say  what  brought  you.  Get  down,  Gil 
Bias — go  along,  Tom  Jones,"  addressing  two  huge 
cats,  who  occupied  a  three-cornered  leather  chair  by 
the  fireside,  and  who  relinquished  it  with  much 
reluctance. 

"How  do  you  do,  pretty  creature  1"  kissing  Lady 


MARRIAGE.  191 

Juliana,  as  she  seated  her  in  this  cat's  cradle.  "  Now, 
girls,  sit  down,  and  tell  what  brought  you  here  to-day 
— humph  ! " 

"Can  your  Ladyship  ask  such  a  question,  after 
having  formally  invited  usf  demanded  the  wrathful 
Jacky. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what,  girls ;  you  were  just  as  much 
invited  by  me  to  dine  here  to-day  as  you  were  ap- 
pointed to  sup  with  the  Grand  Seignior — humph  ! " 

"  ^Vhat  day  of  the  week  does  your  Ladyship  call 
this  1" 

"I  call  it  Tuesday;  but  I  suppose  the  Glenfern 
calendar  calls  it  Thursday :  Thursday  was  the  day  I 
invited  you  to  come." 

"  I'm  sure — I'm  thankful  we're  got  to  the  bottom 
of  it  at  last,"  cried  Miss  Grizzy ;  "I  read  it,  because 
I'm  sure  you  wrote  it,  Tuesday." 

"How  could  you  be  such  a  fool,  my  love,  as  to 
read  it  any  such  thing  1  Even  if  it  had  been  ^mtten 
Tuesday,  you  might  have  had  the  sense  to  know  it 
meant  Thursday.  When  did  you  know  me  invite 
anybody  for  a  Tuesday  1" 

"I  declare  it's  very  true  ;  I  certainly  ought  to  have 
known  better.  I  am  quite  confounded  at  my  own 
stupidity ;  for,  as  you  observe,  even  though  you  had 
said  Tuesday,  I  might  have  known  that  you  must 
have  meant  Thursday." 

"Well,  well,  no  more  about  it.  Since  you  are 
here  you  must  stay  here,  and  j-ou  must  have  some- 
thing to  eat,  I  suppose.      Sir  Sampson  and  I  have 


192  MARRIAGE. 

dined  two  iiours  ago ;  but  you  shall  have  your  dinner 
for  all  that.  I  must  shut  shop  for  this  day,  it  seems, 
and  leave  my  resuscitating  tincture  all  in  the  dead- 
thraw — Methusalem  pills  quite  in  their  infancy.  But 
there's  no  help  for  it.  Since  you  are  here  you  must 
stay  here,  and  you  must  be  fed  and  lodged;  so  get 
along,  girls,  get  along.  Here,  Gil  Bias — come,  Tom 
Jones."  And,  preceded  by  her  cats,  and  followed  by 
her  guests,  she  led  the  way  to  the  parlour. 


CHAPTER  XVL 

"  Point  de  milieu  :  I'hymeii  et  ses  liens 
Sont  les  plus  grands  ou  des  maux  ou  des  biens." 
L' Enfant  Prodigue. 

On  returning  to  the  parlour  they  found  Sir  Sampson 
had,  by  means  of  the  indefatigable  Philistine,  been 
transported  into  a  suit  of  regimentals  and  well-pow- 
dered peruke,  which  had  in  some  measure  restored 
him  to  his  usual  complacency.  Henry,  who  had  gone 
in  quest  of  some  person  to  take  charge  of  the  horses, 
now  entered ;  and  shortly  after  a  tray  of  provisions 
was  brought,  which  the  half-famished  party  eagerly 
attacked,  regardless  of  their  hostess's  admonitions  to 
eat  sparingly,  as  nothing  was  so  dangerous  as  eating 
heartily  when  people  were  hungry. 

The  repast  being  at  length  concluded,  Lady  Mac- 
laughlan  led  her  guests  into  the  saloon.  They  passed 
through  an  antechamber,  which  seemed,  by  the  faint 
light  of  the  lamp,  to  contain  nothing  but  piles  on  piles 
of  china,  and  entered  the  room  of  state. 

The  eye  at  first  wandered  in  uncertain  obscurity ; 

and  the  guests  cautiously  proceeded  over  a  bare  oaken 

floor,  whose  dark  polished  surface  seemed  to  emulate 

a  mirror,  through  an  apartment  of  formidable  extent 

VOL.  I.  0  M. 


194  MARRIAGE. 

The  walls  were  hung  with  rich  but  grotesque  tapestry. 
The  ceiling,  by  its  height  and  massy  carving,  bespoke 
the  age  of  the  apartment ;  but  the  beauty  of  the  design 
was  lost  in  the  gloom. 

A  Turkey  carpet  was  placed  in  the  middle  of  the 
floor ;  and  on  the  middle  of  the  carpet  stood  the  card 
table,  at  which  two  footmen,  hastily  summoned  from 
the  revels  at  Sandy  More's,  were  placing  chairs  and 
cards ;  seemingly  eager  to  display  themselves,  as  if  to 
prove  that  they  were  always  at  their  posts. 

Cards  were  a  matter  of  course  with  Sir  Sampson 
and  his  lady ;  but  as  whist  was  the  only  game  they 
ever  played,  a  difficulty  arose  as  to  the  means  of 
providing  amusement  for  the  younger  part  of  the 
company. 

"I  have  plenty  of  books  for  you,  my  loves,"  said 
Lady  Maclaughlan ;  and,  taking  one  of  the  candles, 
she  made  a  journey  to  the  other  end  of  the  room,  and 
entered  a  small  turret,  from  which  her  voice  was  heard 
issuing  most  audibly,  "  All  the  books  that  should  ever 
have  been  published  are  here.  Eead  these,  and  you 
need  read  no  more  :  all  the  world's  in  these  books — 
humph !  Here's  the  Bible,  great  and  small,  with 
apocrypha  and  concordance  !  Here's  Floyer's  Medicina 
Gerocomica,  or  the  Galenic  Art  of  Preserving  Old 
Men's  Health  ; — Love's  Art  of  Surveying  and  Measur- 
ing Land ; — Transactions  of  the  Highland  Society ; — 
Glass's  Cookery ; — Flavel's  Fountain  of  Life  Opened  ; 
— Fencing  Familiarised  ; — Observations  on  the  Use  of 
Bath  AYaters; — Cure  for  Soul  Sores; — De  Blondt's 


MARRIAGE.  195 

Military  Memoirs ; — MacGhie's  Book-keeping ; — Mead 
on  Pestilence ; — Astenthology,  or  the  Art  of  Preserv- 
ing Feeble  Life  !" 

As  she  enumerated  the  contents  of  her  library,  she 
paused  at  the  end  of  each  title,  in  hopes  of  hearing 
the  book  called  for ;  but  she  was  allowed  to  proceed 
without  interruption  to  the  end  of  her  catalogue. 

"  Why,  what  would  you  have,  children  1"  cried  she 
in  one  of  her  sternest  accents.  "  I  don't  know  !  Do 
you  know  yourselves  1  Here  are  two  novels,  the  only 
ones  worth  any  Christian's  reading." 

Henry  gladly  accepted  the  first  volumes  of  Gil  Bias 
and  Clarissa  Harlowe ;  and,  giving  the  latter  to  Lady 
Juliana,  began  the  other  himself.  Miss  Becky  was 
settled  with  her  hands  across ;  and,  the  whist  party 
being  arranged,  a  solemn  silence  ensued. 

Lady  Juliana  turned  over  a  few  pages  of  her  own 
book,  then  begged  Henry  would  exchange  with  her ; 
but  both  were  in  so  different  a  style  from  the  French 
and  German  school  she  had  been  accustomed  to,  that 
they  were  soon  relinquished  in  disappointment  and 
disgust 

On  the  table,  which  had  been  placed  by  the  fire 
for  her  accommodation,  lay  an  English  newspaper; 
and  to  that  she  had  recourse,  as  a  last  effort  at  amuse- 
ment. But,  alas  !  even  the  dulness  of  Clarissa  Har- 
lowe was  delight  compared  to  the  anguish  with  which 
this  fatal  paper  was  fraught,  in  the  shape  of  the  fol- 
lowing paragraph,  which  presented  itself  to  the  "uv 
fortunate  fair  one's  eye  : — 


196  MARRIAGE. 

"  Yesterday  was  married,  by  special  license,  at  the 

house  of  Mrs.  D ,  his  Grace  the  Duke  of  L , 

to  the  beautiful  and  accomplished  Miss  D .     His 

Royal  Highness  the  Duke  of was  gracious  enough 

to  act  as  father  to  the  bride  upon  this  occasion,  and 
was  present  in  person,  as  were  their  Eoyal  Highnesses 

the  Dukes  of ,  and  of .     The  bride  looked 

most  bewitchingly  lovely,  in  a  simple  robe  of  the  finest 
Mechlin  lace,  with  a  superb  veil  of  the  same  costly 
material,  which  hung  down  to  her  feet  She  wore  a 
set  of  pearls  estimated  at  thirty  thousand  pounds, 
whose  chaste  elegance  corresponded  with  the  rest  of 
the  dress.  Immediately  after  the  ceremony  they  par- 
took of  a  sumptuous  collation,  and  the  happy  pair  set 
off  in  a  chariot  and  four,  attended  by  six  outriders,  and 
two  coaches  and  four. 

"After  spending  the  honeymoon  at  his  Grace's 
unique  villa  on  the  Thames,  their  Graces  will  receive 
company  at  their  splendid  mansion  in  Portman  Square. 
The  wedding  paraphernaha  is  said  to  have  cost  ten 
thousand  pounds ;  and  her  Grace's  jewel-box  is 
estimated  at  little  less  than  half  a  million." 

Wretched  as  Lady  Juhana  had  long  felt  herself  to 
be,  her  former  state  of  mind  was  positive  happiness 
compared  to  what  she  now  endured.  Envy,  regret, 
self-reproach,  and  resentment,  all  struggled  in  the 
breast  of  the  self- devoted  beauty,  while  the  paper 
dropped  from  her  hand,  and  she  cast  a  fearful  glance 
around,  as  if  to  ascertain  the  reality  of  her  fate.  The 
dreadful  certainty  smote  her  with  a  sense  of  wretched- 


MARRIAGE.  197 

ness  too  acute  to  be  suppressed ;  and,  darting  a  look 
of  horror  at  her  unconscious  husband,  she  threw 
herself  back  in  her  chair,  while  the  scalding  tears  of 
envy,  anger,  and  repentance  fell  from  her  eyes. 

Accustomed  as  Henry  now  was  to  these  ebullitions 
of  feeling  from  his  beauteous  partner,  he  was  not  yet 
so  indifferent  as  to  behold  them  unmoved  ;  and  he 
sought  to  soothe  her  by  the  kindest  expressions  and 
most  tender  epithets.  These  indeed  had  long  since 
ceased  to  charm  away  the  lady's  ill-humour,  but  they 
sometimes  succeeded  in  mollifying  it.  But  now  their 
only  eflect  seemed  to  be  increasing  the  irritation,  as 
she  turned  from  all  her  husband's  inquiries,  and 
impatiently  withdrew  her  hands  from  his. 

Astonished  at  a  conduct  so  incomprehensible, 
Douglas  earnestly  besought  an  explanation. 

"  There ! "  cried  she,  at  length,  pushing  the  paper 
towards  him,  "  see  there  what  I  might  have  been  but 
for  you;  and  then  compare  it  with  Avhat  you  have 
made  me  !" 

Confounded  by  this  reproach,  Henry  eagerly 
snatched  up  the  paper,  and  his  eye  instantly  fell  on 
the  fatal  paragraph — the  poisoned  dart  that  struck 
the  death-blow  to  all  that  now  remained  to  him  of 
happiness — the  fond  idea  that,  even  amidst  childish 
folly  and  capricious  estrangement,  still  in  the  main 
he  was  beloved  !  With  a  quivering  lip,  and  cheek 
blanched  with  mortification  and  indignant  contempt, 
he  laid  down  the  paper ;  and  without  casting  a  look 
upon,  or  uttering  a  word  to,  his  once  adored  and  aduriiuj 


1 


198  MARRIAGE. 

Juliana,  quitted  the  apartment  in  all  that  bitterness 
of  spirit  which  a  generous  nature  must  feel  when  it 
first  discovers  the  fallacy  of  a  cherished  affection. 
Henry  had  indeed  ceased  to  regard  his  wife  with 
the  ardour  of  romantic  passion ;  nor  had  the  solid 
feelings  of  affectionate  esteem  supplied  its  place ;  but 
he  loved  her  still,  because  he  believed  himself  the 
engrossing  object  of  her  tenderness;  and  in  that 
blest  delusion  he  had  hitherto  found  palliatives  for 
her  folly  and  consolation  for  all  his  own  distresses. 

To  indifference  he  might  for  a  time  have  remained 
insensible ;  because,  though  his  feelings  were  strong, 
his  perceptions  were  not  acute.  But  the  veil  of  illu- 
sion was  now  rudely  withdrawn.  He  beheld  himself 
detested  where  he  imagined  himself  adored ;  and  the 
anguish  of  disappointed  affection  was  heightened  by 
the  stings  of  wounded  pride  and  deluded  self-love. 


CHAPTER  XYII. 

"  What's  done,  cannot  be  undone  ;  to  bed,  to  bed,  to  bed  ! " 

Exit  Lady  Macbeth. 

The  distance  at  which  the  whist  i^arty  had  placed 
themselves,  and  the  deep  interest  in  which  their 
senses  were  involved  while  the  fate  of  the  odd  trick 
was  pending,  had  rendered  them  insensible  to  the 
scene  that  was  acting  at  the  other  extremity  of  the 
apartment.  The  task  of  administering  succour  to  the 
afflicted  fair  one  therefore  devolved  upon  Miss  Becky, 
whose  sympathetic  powers  never  had  been  called 
into  action  before.  Slowly  approaching  the  Avretched 
Lady  Juliana  as  she  la}^  back  in  her  chair,  the  tears 
coursing  each  other  down  her  cheeks,  she  tendered 
her  a  smelling-bottle,  to  which  her  oAvn  nose,  and  the 
noses  of  her  sisters,  were  wont  to  be  applied  when- 
ever, as  they  choicely  expressed  it,  they  wanted  a 
"fine  smell."  But  upon  this  trying  occasion  she 
went  still  farther.  She  unsci'ewed  the  stopper,  un- 
folded a  cotton  handkerchief,  upon  which  she  poured 
a  few  drops  of  lavender  water,  and  offered  it  to  her 
ladyship,  deeming  that  the  most  elegant  and  efficient 
manner  in  which  she  could  afford   relief.      But  the 


200  MARRIAGE. 

well-meant  offering  was  silently  waved  off;  and  poor 
Miss  Becky,  having  done  all  that  the  light  of  reason 
suggested  to  her,  retreated  to  her  seat,  wondering 
what  it  was  her  fine  sister-in-law  would  be  at. 

By  the  time  the  rubber  was  ended  her  ladyship's 
fears  of  Lady  Maclaughlan  had  enabled  her  to  con- 
quer her  feelings  so  far  that  they  had  now  sunk  into 
a  state  of  sullen  dejection,  which  the  good  aunts 
eagerly  interpreted  into  the  fatigue  of  the  journey, 
Miss  Grizzy  declaring  that  although  the  drive  was 
most  delightful — nobody  could  deny  that — and  they 
all  enjoyed  it  excessively,  as  indeed  everybody  must 
who  had  eyes  in  their  head  ;  yet  she  must  own,  at  the 
same  time,  that  she  really  felt  as  if  all  her  bones  were 
broke. 

A  general  rising  therefore  took  place  at  an  early 
hour,  and  Lady  Juliana,  attended  by  all  the  females 
of  the  party,  was  ushered  into  the  chamber  of  state, 
which  was  fitted  up  in  a  style  acknowledged  to  be 
truly  magnificent,  by  all  who  had  ever  enjoyed  the 
honour  of  being  permitted  to  gaze  on  its  white  velvet 
bedcurtains,  surmounted  by  the  family  arms,  and 
gracefully  tucked  up  by  hands  sinister-coiiped  at  the 
wrists,  etc.  But  lest  my  fashionable  readers  should 
be  of  a  different  opinion,  I  shall  refrain  from  giving 
an  inventory  of  the  various  articles  with  which  this 
favoured  chamber  was  furnished.  Misses  Grizzy  and 
Jacky  occupied  the  green  room  which  had  been  fitted 
up  at  Sir  Sampson's  birth.  The  curtains  hung  at  a 
respectful  distance  from  the  ground ;   the  chimney- 


MARRIAGE.  201 

piece  was  far  beyond  the  reach  even  of  the  majestic 
Jacky's  arm;  and  the  painted  tiffany  toilet  was 
covered  with  a  shoal  of  little  tortoise-shell  boxes  of 
all  shapes  and  sizes.  A  grim  visage,  scowling  from 
under  a  Highland  bonnet,  graced  by  a  single  black 
feather,  hung  on  high.  Miss  Grizzy  placed  herself 
before  it,  and,  holding  up  the  candle,  contemplated 
it  for  about  the  nine  hundredth  time,  with  an  awe 
bordering  almost  on  adoration, 

"  Certainly  Sir  Eneas  must  have  been  a  most 
wonderful  man — nobody  can  deny  that;  and  there 
can  be  no  question  but  he  had  the  second-sight  to  the 
greatest  degree — indeed,  I  never  heard  it  disputed; 
many  of  his  prophecies,  indeed,  seem  to  have  been 
quite  incomprehensible ;  but  that  is  so  much  the  more 
extraordinary ;  you  know — for  instance,  the  one  "nath 
regard  to  our  family,"  lowering  her  voice;  "for  my 
part  I  declare  I  never  could  comprehend  it ;  and  yet 
there  must  be  something  in  it,  too;  but  how  any 
branch  from  the  Glenfern  tree — of  course,  you  know, 
that  can  only  mean  the  family  tree — should  help  to 
prop  Lochmarlie's  Avails,  is  what  I  can't  conceive.  If 
Sir  Sampson  had  a  son,  to  be  sure,  some  of  the  girls 
— for  you  know  it  can't  be  any  of  us ;  at  least  I  de- 
clare for  my  own  part — I'm  sure  even  if  anything — • 
which  I  trust,  in  goodness,  there  is  not  the  least  chance 
of,  should  ever  happen  to  dear  Lady  Maclaughlan, 
and  Sir  Sampson  should  take  it  into  his  head — Avhich, 
of  course,  is  a  thing  not  to  be  thought  about — and 
indeed  I'm  quite  convinced  it  would  be  very  much 


202  MARRIAGE. 

out  of  respect  to  dear  Lady  Maclauglilan,  as  well  as 
friendship  for  us,  if  such  a  thing  was  ever  to  como 
into  his  head." 

Here  the  tender  Grizzy  got  so  involved  in  her  o^vn 
ideas  as  to  the  possibihty  of  Lady  Maclaughlan's  death, 
and  the  propriety  of  Sir  Sampson's  proposals,  together 
with  the  fulfilling  of  Sir  Eneas  the  seer's  prophecy, 
that  there  is  no  saying  how  far  she  strayed  in  her  self- 
created  labyrinth.  Such  as  choose  to  follow  her  may. 
For  our  part,  we  prefer  accompanying  the  youthful 
Becky  to  her  chamber,  whither  she  was  also  attended 
by  the  lady  of  the  mansion.  Becky's  destiny  for  the 
night  lay  at  the  top  of  one  of  those  little  straggling 
wooden  stairs  common  in  old  houses,  which  creaked 
in  all  directions.  The  bed  was  placed  in  a  recess  dark 
as  Erebus,  and  betwixt  the  bed  and  the  wall  was  a 
depth  profound,  which  Becky's  eye  dared  not  attempt 
to  penetrate. 

"  You  Avill  find  everything  right  here,  child,"  said 
Lady  Maclaughlan  ;  "  and  if  anything  should  be  wrong 
you  must  think  it  right.  I  never  suffer  anything  to 
be  "wrong  here — humph  ! "  Becky,  emboldened  by 
despair,  cast  a  look  towards  the  recess ;  and  in  a  faint 
voice  ventured  to  inquire,  "Is  there  no  fear  that 
Tom  Jones  or  Gil  Bias  may  be  in  that  place  behind 
the  bed?" 

"  And  if  they  should,"  answered  her  hostess  in  her 
most  appalling  tone,  "  what  is  that  to  you  1  Are  you 
a  mouse,  that  you  are  afraid  they  Avill  eat  you  1  Yes, 
I  suppose  you  are.     You  are  perhaps  the  princess  in 


MARRIAGE.  203 

the  fairy  tale,  who  was  a  woman  by  day  and  a  mouse 
by  night.  I  beheve  you  are  bewitched  !  So  I  wish 
your  mouseship  a  good  night."  And  she  descended 
the  creaking  stair,  singing, 

"  Mrs.  Mouse,  are  you  within  ?" 

till  even  her  stentorian  voice  was  lost  in  distance. 
Poor  Becky's  heart  died  with  the  retreating  sounds, 
and  only  revived  to  beat  time  with  the  worm  in  the 
wood.  Long  and  eerie  was  the  night,  as  she  gave 
herself  up  to  all  the  horrors  of  a  superstitious  mind — 
ghosts,  gray,  black,  and  white,  flitted  around  her 
couch ;  cats,  half  human,  held  her  throat ;  the  death- 
watch  ticked  in  her  ears.  At  length  the  light  of 
morning  shed  its  brightening  influence  on  the  dim 
opaque  of  her  understanding;  and  when  all  things 
stood  disclosed  in  light,  she  shut  her  eyes  and  oped 
her  mouth  in  all  the  blissfulness  of  security.  The 
light  of  day  was  indeed  favourable  for  displaying  to 
advantage  the  beauties  of  Lochmarlie  Castle,  which 
owed  more  to  nat(ire  than  art.  It  was  beautifully 
situated  on  a  smooth  green  bank,  that  rose  somewhat 
abruptly  from  the  lake,  and  commanded  a  view,  which, 
if  not  extensive,  was  yet  full  of  variety  and  grandeur. 
Its  venerable  turrets  reared  themselves  above  the 
trees  which  seemed  coeval  with  them ;  and  the  vast 
magnificence  of  its  wide-spreading  lawns  and  extensive 
forests  seemed  to  appertain  to  some  feudal  prince's 
lofty  domain.  But  in  vain  were  creation's  charms 
spread    before    Lady    Juliana's    eyes.      Woods    and 


204  MArtRIAGE, 

mountains  and  lakes  and  rivers  were  odious  things ; 
and  her  heart  panted  for  dusty  squares  and  suffocating 
drawing-rooms. 

Something  was  said  of  departing  by  the  sisters 
when  the  party  met  at  breakfast ;  but  this  was  im- 
mediately negatived  in  the  most  decided  manner  by 
their  hostess. 

"  Since  you  have  taken  your  own  time  to  come,  my 
dears,  you  must  take  mine  to  go.  Thursday  was  the 
day  I  invited  you  for,  or  at  least  \vanted  you  for,  so 
you  must  stay  Thursday,  and  go  away  on  Friday,  and 
my  blessing  go  with  you — humph  !" 

The  sisters,  charmed  with  what  they  termed  the 
hospitality  and  friendship  of  this  invitation,  delightedly 
agreed  to  remain ;  and  as  things  were  at  least  con- 
ducted in  better  style  there  than  at  Glenfern,  uncom- 
fortable as  it  was,  Lady  Juliana  found  herself  somewhat 
nearer  home  there  than  at  the  family  chateau.  Lady 
Maclaughlan,  who  could  be  commonly  civil  in  her  own 
house,  was  at  some  pains  to  amuse  her  guest  by  show- 
ing her  collection  of  china  and  cabinet  of  gems,  both 
of  which  were  remarkably  fine.  There  was  also  a 
library,  and  a  gallery,  containing  some  good  pictures, 
and,  what  Lady  Juliana  prized  still  more,  a  billiard- 
table.  Thursday,  the  destined  day,  at  length  arrived, 
and  a  large  party  assembled  to  dinner.  La.ly  Juliana, 
as  she  half  reclined  on  a  sofa,  surveyed  the  company 
with  a  supercilious  stare,  and  without  deigning  to  take 
any  part  in  the  general  conversation  that  went  on. 
It  was  enough  that  they  spoke  with  a  peculiar  accent 


MARRIAGE.  205 

— everything  they  said  must  be  barbarous;  but  she 
was  pleased  once  more  to  eat  off  plate,  and  to  find 
herself  in  rooms  which,  though  grotesque  and  comfort- 
less, yet  wore  an  air  of  state,  and  whose  vastness 
enabled  her  to  keep  aloof  from  those  with  whom  she 
never  willingly  came  in  contact.  It  was  therefore 
with  regret  she  saw  the  day  of  her  departure  arrive, 
and  found  herself  once  more  an  unwilling  inmate  of 
her  only  asylum ;  particularly  as  her  situation  now 
required  comforts  and  indulgences  which  it  was  there 
impossible  to  procure. 


CHAPTER  XVIIL 

"  No  mother's  care 

Shielded  my  infant  innocence  with  prayer  : 

***** 

Mother,  miscall'd,  farewell ! " 

Savage. 

The  happy  period,  so  long  and  anxiously  anticipated 
by  the  ladies  of  Glenfern,  at  length  arrived,  and  Lady 
Juliana  presented  to  the  house  of  Douglas — not,  alas  ! 
the  ardently-desired  heir  to  its  ancient  consequence, 
but  twin-daughters,  who  could  only  be  regarded  as 
additional  burdens  on  its  poverty. 

The  old  gentleman's  disappointment  was  excessive ; 
and,  as  he  paced  up  and  down  the  parlour,  with  his 
hands  in  his  pockets,  he  muttered,  "Twa  lasses!  I 
ne'er  heard  tell  o'  the  like  o't.  I  wonder  whar  their 
tochers  are  to  come  frael" 

Miss  Grizzy,  in  great  perturbation,  declared  it 
certainly  was  a  great  pity  it  had  so  happened,  but 
these  things  couldn't  be  helped ;  she  was  sure  Lady 
Maclaughlan  would  be  greatly  surprised. 

Miss  Jacky  saw  no  cause  for  regret,  and  promised 
herself  an  endless  source  of  delight  in  forming  the 
minds  and  training  the  ideas  of  her  infant  nieces. 


MARRIAGE.  207 

Miss  Nicky  wondered  how  they  Avere  to  be  nursed. 
She  was  afraid  Lady  Juliana  would  not  be  able  for 
both,  and  wet-nurses  had  such  stomachs  ! 

Henry,  meanwhile,  whose  love  had  all  revived  in 
anxiety  for  the  safety,  and  anguish  for  the  sufferings 
of  his  youthful  partner,  had  hastened  to  her  apart- 
ment, and,  kneeling  by  her  side,  he  pressed  her  hands 
to  his  lips  with  feelings  of  the  deepest  emotion. 

"Dearer — a  thousand  times  dearer  to  me  than 
ever,"  whispered  he,  as  he  fondly  embraced  her,  "and 
those  sweet  pledges  of  our  love  ! " 

"Ah,  don't  mention  them,"  interrupted  his  lady 
in  a  languid  tone.  "  How  very  provoking  !  I  hate 
girls  so — and  two  of  them — oh!"  and  she  sighed 
deeply.  Her  husband  sighed  too ;  but  from  a 
different  cause.  The  nurse  now  appeared,  and 
approached  with  her  helpless  charges;  and  both 
parents  for  the  first  time  looked  on  their  own 
offspring. 

"  What  nice  little  creatures ! "  said  the  delighted 
father,  as,  taking  them  in  his  arms,  he  imprinted  the 
first  kiss  on  the  innocent  faces  of  his  daughters,  and 
then  held  them  to  their  mother ;  who,  turning  from 
them  with  disgust,  exclaimed,  "  How  can  you  kiss 
them,  Harry  1  They  are  so  ugly,  and  they  squall  so  ! 
Oh  do,  for  heaven's  sake,  take  them  away  !  And  see, 
there  is  poor  Psyche  quite  wretched  at  being  so  long 
away  from  me.     Pray,  put  her  on  the  bed." 

"She  will  grow  fond  of  her  babies  by-and-by,"  said 
poor  Henry  to  himself,  as  he  quitted  the  apartment, 


208  MARRIAGE. 

with  feelings  very  different  from  those  with  which  he 
entered  it. 

At  the  pressing  solicitations  of  her  husband,  the 
fashionable  mother  was  prevailed  upon  to  attempt 
nursing  one  of  her  poor  starving  infants;  but  the 
first  trial  proved  also  the  last,  as  she  declared  nothing 
upon  earth  should  ever  induce  her  to  perform  so 
odious  an  office ;  and  as  Henry's  entreaties  and  her 
aunts'  remonstrances  served  alike  to  irritate  and 
agitate  her,  the  contest  was,  by  the  advice  of  her 
medical  attendant,  completely  given  up.  A  wet-nurse 
was  therefore  procured  ;  but  as  she  refused  to  under- 
take both  children,  and  the  old  gentleman  would  not 
hear  of  having  two  such  encumbrances  in  his  family, 
it  was  settled,  to  the  unspeakable  delight  of  the 
maiden  sisters,  that  the  youngest  should  be  entrusted 
entirely  to  their  management,  and  brought  up  by 
hand. 

The  consequence  was  such  as  might  have  been 
foreseen.  The  child,  who  was  naturally  weak  and 
delicate  at  its  birth,  daily  lost  a  portion  of  its  little 
strength,  while  its  continued  cries  declared  the  inten- 
sity of  its  suflferings,  though  they  produced  no  other 
effect  on  its  unfeeling  mother  than  her  having  it 
removed  to  a  more  distant  apartment,  as  she  could 
not  endure  to  hear  the  cross  little  thing  scream  so  for 
nothing.  On  the  other  hand,  the  more  favoured  twin, 
who  was  from  its  birth  a  remarkably  strong  lively 
infant,  and  met  with  all  justice  from  its  nurse,  throve 
apace,  and  was  pronounced  by  her  to  be  the  very 


MARRIAGE.  209 

picture  of  the  honnie  leddie,  its  mamma;  and  then, 
with  all  the  low  cunning  of  her  kind,  she  would  launch 
forth  into  panegyrics  of  its  beauty,  and  prophecies  of 
the  great  dignities  and  honours  that  would  one  day 
be  showered  upon  it ;  until,  by  her  fawning  and 
flattery,  she  succeeded  in  exciting  a  degree  of  interest, 
which  nature  had  not  secured  for  it  in  the  mother's 
breast. 

Things  were  in  this  situation  when,  at  the  end  of 
three  weeks,  Mr,  and  Mrs.  Douglas  arrived  to  offer 
their  congratulations  on  the  birth  of  the  twins.  Lady 
Juliana  received  her  sister-in-law  in  her  apartment, 
which  she  had  not  yet  quitted,  and  replied  to  her 
congratulations  only  by  querulous  complaints  and 
childish  murmurs. 

"I  am  sure  you  are  very  happy  in  not  having 
children,"  continued  she,  as  the  cries  of  the  little 
sufferer  reached  her  ear ;  "I  hope  to  goodness  I  shall 
never  have  any  more.  I  wonder  if  anybody  ever  had 
twin  daughters  before,  and  I,  too,  who  hate  girls  so  ! " 

Mrs  Douglas,  disgusted  with  her  unfeeling  folly, 
knew  not  what  to  reply,  and  a  pause  ensued ;  but  a 
fresh  burst  of  cries  from  the  unfortunate  baby  again 
called  forth  its  mother's  indignation. 

"I  wish  to  goodness  that  child  was  gagged,"  cried 
she,  holding  her  hands  to  her  ears.  "It  has  done 
nothing  but  scream  siiice  the  hour  it  was  born,  and  it 
makes  me  quite  sick  to  hear  it." 

"Poor  little  dear  !"  said  Mrs.  Douglas  compassion- 
ately, "it  appears  to  suffer  a  great  deal" 

VOL.  LP  K 


210  MAKRIAGE. 

"Suffer!"  repeated  her  sister-in-law;  "what  can 
it  suffer  ?  I  am  siu-e  it  meets  with  a  great  deal  more 
attention  than  any  person  in  the  house.  These  three 
old  women  do  nothing  but  feed  it  from  morning  to 
night,  with  everything  they  can  think  of,  and  make 
such  a  fuss  about  it ! " 

"I  suspect,  my  dear  sister,  you  would  be  very 
sorry  for  yourself,"  said  Mrs.  Douglas,  with  a  smile, 
"  were  you  to  endure  the  same  treatment  as  your  poor 
baby;  stuffed  with  improper  food  and  loathsome  drugs, 
and  bandied  about  from  one  person  to  another." 

"You  may  say  what  you  please,"  retorted  Lady 
Juliana  pettishly;  "but  I  know  it's  nothing  but  ill 
temper :  nurse  says  so  too ;  and  it  is  so  ugly  with 
constantly  crying  that  I  cannot  bear  to  look  at  it;" 
and  she  turned  away  her  head  as  Miss  Jacky  entered 
with  the  little  culprit  in  her  arms,  which  she  was 
vainly  endeavouring  to  talk  into  silence,  while  she 
dandled  it  in  the  most  awkward  maiden-like  manner 
imaginable. 

"Good  heavens!  what  a  fright!"  exclaimed  the 
tender  parent,  as  her  child  was  held  up  to  her. 
"  AVhy,  it  is  much  less  than  when  it  was  born,  and  its 
skin  is  as  yellow  as  saffron,  and  it  squints  !  Only  look 
what  a  difference,"  as  the  nurse  advanced  and  osten- 
tatiously displayed  her  charge,  who  had  just  waked 
out  of  a  long  sleep ;  its  cheeks  flushed  with  heat ;  its 
skin  completely  filled  up  ;  and  its  large  eyes  rolling 
under  its  already  dark  eyelashes. 

"The  bonny  wean's  just  her  mamma's  pickter," 


MARRIAGE.  211 

drawled  out  the  nurse,  "but  the  wee  missy's  unco 
like  her  aunties." 

"Take  her  away,"  cried  Lady  Juliana  in  a  tone  of 
despair ;  "  I  wish  I  could  send  her  out  of  my  hearing 
altogether,  for  her  noise  will  be  the  death  of  me." 

"  Alas !  what  would  I  give  to  hear  the  blessed  sound 
of  a  living  child  !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Douglas,  taking  the 
infant  in  her  arms.  "  And  how  great  would  be  my 
happiness  could  I  call  the  poor  rejected  one  mine  !" 

"I'm  sure  you  are  welcome  to  my  share  of  the 
little  plague,"  said  her  sister-in-law,  with  a  laugh,  "  if 
you  can  prevail  upon  Harry  to  give  up  his." 

"  I  would  give  up  a  great  deal  could  my  poor  child 
find  a  mother,"  replied  her  husband,  who  just  then 
entered. 

"  My  dear  brother ! "  cried  Mrs.  Douglas,  her  eyes 
beaming  with  delight,  "do  you  then  confirm  Lady 
Juliana's  kind  promise  ?  Indeed  I  will  be  a  mother 
to  your  dear  bab}',  and  love  her  as  if  she  were  my 
own ;  and  in  a  month — oh  !  in  much  less  time — you 
shall  see  her  as  stout  as  her  sister." 

Henry  sighed,  as  he  thought,  "  AVhy  has  not  my 
poor  babe  such  a  mother  of  its  own?"  Then  thanking 
his  sister-in-law  for  her  generous  intentions,  he  re- 
minded her  that  she  must  consult  her  husband,  as 
few  men  liked  to  be  troubled  with  any  children  but 
their  own. 

"  You  are  in  the  right,"  said  Mrs.  Douglas,  blush- 
ing at  the  impetuosity  of  feeling  which  had  made  her 
forget  for  an  instant  the  deference  due  to  her  bus- 


212  MARRIAGE. 

band  ;  "  I  shall  instantly  ask  his  permission,  and  he  is 
so  indulgent  to  all  my  wishes  that  I  have  little  doubt 
of  obtaining  his  consent;"  and,  with  the  child  in  her 
arms,  she  hastened  to  her  husband,  and  made  known 
her  request. 

Mr.  Douglas  received  the  proposal  with  consider- 
able coolness ;  wondering  what  his  wife  could  see  in 
such  an  ugly  squalling  thing  to  plague  herself  about 
it.  If  it  had  been  a  boy,  old  enough  to  speak  and 
run  about,  there  might  be  some  amusement  in  it ;  but 
he  could  not  see  the  use  of  a  squalling  sickly  infant — 
and  a  girl  too  ! 

His  wife  sighed  deeply,  and  the  tears  stole  down 
her  cheeks  as  she  looked  on  the  wan  visage  and  closed 
eyes  of  the  little  sufferer.  "God  help  thee,  poor 
baby!"  said  she  mournfully;  "you  are  rejected  on 
all  hands,  but  your  misery  will  soon  be  at  an  end;" 
and  she  was  slowly  leaving  the  room  with  her  help- 
less charge  when  her  husband,  touched  at  the  sight 
of  her  distress,  though  the  feeling  that  caused  it  he 
did  not  comprehend,  called  to  her,  "  I  am  sure,  Alicia, 
if  you  really  wish  to  take  charge  of  the  infant  I  have 
no  objections ;  only  I  think  you  will  find  it  a  great 
plague,  and  the  mother  is  such  a  fooL" 

"  Worse  than  a  fool,"  said  Mrs.  Douglas  indignantly, 
"  for  she  hates  and  abjures  this  her  poor  unoffending 
babe." 

"Does  she  sol"  cried  Mr.  Douglas,  every  kindling 
feeling  roused  within  him  at  the  idea  of  his  blood 
being  hated  and  abjured ;   "  then,  hang  me  !  if  she 


I 


MARRIAGE.  213 

shall  have  any  child  of  Harry's  to  hate  as  long  as  I 
have  a  house  to  shelter  it  and  a  sixpence  to  bestow 
upon  it,"  taking  the  infant  in  his  arms,  and  kindly 
kissing  it. 

Mrs.  Douglas  smiled  through  her  tears  as  she  em 
braced  her  husband,  and  praised  his  goodness  and 
generosity;  then,  full  of  exultation  and  delight,  she 
flew  to  impart  the  success  of  her  mission  to  the  parents 
of  her  protdgee. 

Great  was  the  surprise  of  the  maiden  nurses  at 
finding  they  were  to  be  bereft  of  their  little  charge. 

"  I  declare,  I  think  the  child  is  doing  as  well  as 
possible,"  said  Miss  Grizzy.  "  To  be  sure  it  does 
yammer  constantly — that  can't  be  denied ;  and  it  is 
uncommonly  small — nobody  can  dispute  that.  At  the 
same  time,  I  am  sure,  I  can't  tell  what  makes  it  cry, 
for  I've  given  it  two  colic  powders  every  day,  and  a 
tea-spoonful  of  Lady  Maclaughlan's  carminative  every 
three  hours." 

"  And  I've  done  nothing  but  make  water-gruel  and 
chop  rusks  for  it,"  quoth  Miss  Nicky,  "  and  yet  it  is 
never  satisfied ;  I  wonder  what  it  would  be  at." 

"I  know  perfectly  well  what  it  would  be  at,"  said 
Miss  Jacky,  with  an  air  of  importance.  "All  this 
crying  and  screaming  is  for  nothing  else  but  a  nurse ; 
but  it  ought  not  to  be  indulged.  There  is  no  end  of 
indulging  the  desires,  and  'tis  amazing  how  cunning 
children  are,  and  how  soon  they  know  how  to  take 
advantage  of  people's  weakness,"  glancing  an  eye  of 
fire  at  Mrs.  Douglas.     "  Were  that  my  child,  I  would 


214  JIARRIAGE. 

feed  her  on  bread  and  water  before  I  would  humour 
her  fancies.  A  pretty  lesson,  indeed  !  if  she's  to  have 
her  own  way  before  she's  a  month  old." 

Mrs.  Douglas  knew  that  it  was  in  vain  to  attempt 
arguing  with  her  aunts.  She  therefore  allowed  them 
to  wonder  and  declaim  over  their  sucking  pots,  colic 
powders,  and  other  instruments  of  torture,  while  she 
sent  to  the  wife  of  one  of  her  tenants  who  had  lately 
lain-in,  and  who  wished  for  the  situation  of  nurse, 
appointing  her  to  be  at  Lochmarlie  the  following  day. 
Having  made  her  arrangements,  and  collected  the 
scanty  portion  of  clothing  Mrs.  Nurse  chose  to  allow, 
Mrs.  Douglas  repaired  to  her  sister-in-law's  apartment, 
with  her  little  charge  in  her  arms.  She  found  her 
still  in  bed,  and  surrounded  with  her  favourites. 

"  So  you  really  are  going  to  torment  yourself  with 
that  little  screech-owl?"  said  she.  "Well,  I  must 
say  it's  very  good  of  you ;  but  I  am  afraid  you  will 
soon  tire  of  her.  Children  are  such  plagues !  Are 
they  not,  my  darling  1"  added  she,  kissing  her  pug. 

"  You  will  not  say  so  when  you  have  seen  my 
little  girl  a  month  hence,"  said  Mrs.  Douglas,  trying 
to  conceal  her  disgust  for  Henry's  sake,  who  had  just 
then  entered  the  room.  "  She  has  promised  me  never 
to  cry  any  more ;  so  give  her  a  kiss,  and  let  us  be 
gone." 

The  high-bred  mother  slightly  touched  the  cheek 
of  her  sleeping  babe,  extended  her  finger  to  her  sister- 
in-law,  and  carelessly  bidding  them  good-bye,  returned 
to  her  pillow  and  her  pugs. 


MARRIAGE.  215 

Henry  accompanied  Mrs.  Douglas  to  the  carriage, 
and  before  they  parted  he  promised  his  brother  to 
ride  over  to  Lochmarlie  in  a  few  days.  He  said 
nothing  of  his  child,  but  his  glistening  eye  and  the 
warm  pressure  of  his  hand  spoke  volumes  to  the  kind 
heart  of  his  brother,  who  assured  him  that  Alicia 
would  be  very  good  to  his  httle  girl,  and  that  he  was 
sure  she  would  get  quite  well  wlien  she  got  a  nurse. 
The  carriage  drove  off",  and  Henry,  with  a  heavy  spirit, 
returned  to  the  house  to  listen  to  his  father's  lectures, 
his  aunts'  ejaculations,  and  his  wife's  murmurs. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

"  We  may  boldlj'  spend  upon  the  hope  of  what 
Is  to  come  in." 

Henry  IV. 

The  birth  of  twin  daughters  awakened  the  young 
father  to  a  still  stronger  sense  of  the  total  dependence 
and  extreme  helplessness  of  his  condition.  Yet  how 
to  remedy  it  he  knew  not.  To  accept  of  his  father's 
proposal  was  out  of  the  question,  and  it  was  equally 
impossible  for  him,  were  he  ever  so  inclined,  to  remain 
much  longer  a  burden  on  the  narrow  income  of  the 
Laird  of  Glenfern.  One  alternative  only  remained, 
which  was  to  address  the  friend  and.  patron  of  his 
youth.  General  Cameron  ;  and  to  him  he  therefore 
wrote,  describing  all  the  misery  of  his  situation,  and 
imploring  his  forgiveness  and  assistance.  "The  old 
General's  passion  must  have  cooled  by  this  time," 
thought  he  to  himself,  as  he  sealed  the  letter,  "  and 
as  he  has  often  overlooked  former  scrapes,  I  think, 
after  all,  he  will  help  me  out  of  this  greatest  one  of 
all." 

For  once  Henry  was  not  mistaken.  He  received 
an  answer  to  his  letter,  in  which  the  General,  after 
execrating  his  folly  in  marrying  a  lady  of  quality, 


MARRIAGE.  217 

swearing  at  the  birth  of  his  twin  daughters,  and  giving 
him  some  wholesome  counsel  as  to  his  future  mode  of 
life,  concluded  by  informing  him  that  he  had  got  him 
reinstated  in  his  former  rank  in  the  army ;  that  he 
should  settle  seven  hundred  per  annum  on  him  till 
he  saw  how  matters  were  conducted,  and,  in  the  mean- 
time, enclosed  a  draught  for  four  hundred  pounds,  to 
open  the  campaign. 

Though  this  was  not,  according  to  Henry's  notions, 
"coming  down  handsome!}',"  still  it  was  better  than 
not  coming  down  at  all,  and  with  a  mixture  of  delight 
and  disappointment  he  flew  to  communicate  the  tidings 
to  Lady  Juliana. 

"Seven  hundred  pounds  a  year!"  exclaimed  she, 
in  raptures  :  "  Heavens  !  what  a  quantity  of  money  ! 
why,  we  shall  be  quite  rich,  and  I  shall  have  such  a 
beautiful  house,  and  such  pretty  carriages,  and  give 
such  parties,  and  buy  so  many  fine  things.  Oh  dear, 
how  happy  I  shall  be  ! " 

"You  know  little  of  money,  Julia,  if  you  think 
seven  hundred  pounds  will  do  all  that,"  replied  her 
husband  gravely.  "I  hardly  think  we  can  afford  a 
house  in  town  ;  but  we  may  have  a  pretty  cottage  at 
Richmond  or  Twickenham,  and  I  can  keep  a  curricle, 
and  drive  you  about,  you  know;  and  we  may  give 
famous  good  dinners." 

A  dispute  here  ensued ;  her  ladyship  hated  cot- 
tages and  curricles  and  good  dinners  as  much  as 
her  husband  despised  fancy  balls,  opera  boxes,  and 
chariots. 


218  MATIPJAGE. 

The  fact  was  that  the  one  knew  very  nearly  as 
much  of  the  real  value  of  money  as  the  other,  and 
Henry's  sober  scheme  was  just  about  as  practicable  as 
his  wife's  extravagant  one. 

Brought  up  in  the  luxurious  profusion  of  a  great 
house ;  accustomed  to  issue  her  orders  and  have  them 
obeyed,  Lady  Juliana,  at  the  time  she  married,  was 
in  the  most  blissful  state  of  ignorance  respecting  the 
value  of  pounds,  shillings,  and  pence.  Her  maid  took 
care  to  have  her  wardrobe  supplied  with  all  things 
needful,  and  when  she  wanted  a  new  dress  or  a 
fashionable  jewel,  it  was  only  driving  to  Madame  D.'s, 
or  Mr.  Y.'s,  and  desiring  the  article  to  be  sent  to 
herself,  while  the  bill  went  to  her  papa. 

From  never  seeing  money  in  its  own  vulgar  form. 
Lady  Juliana  had  learned  to  consider  it  as  a  mere 
nominal  thing ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  her  husband, 
from  seeing  too  much  of  it,  had  formed  almost  equally 
erroneous  ideas  of  its  powers.  By  the  mistaken  kind- 
ness of  General  Cameron  he  had  been  indulged  in  all 
the  fashionable  follies  of  the  day,  and  allowed  to  use 
his  patron's  ample  fortune  as  if  it  had  already  been 
his  own ;  nor  was  it  until  he  found  himself  a  prisoner 
at  Glenfern  from  want  of  money  that  he  had  ever 
attached  the  smallest  importance  to  it.  In  short,  both 
the  husband  and  wife  had  been  accustomed  to  look 
upon  it  in  the  same  light  as  the  air  they  breathed. 
They  knew  it  essential  to  life,  and  concluded  that  it 
would  come  some  way  or  other ;  either  from  the  east 
or  west,  north  or  south.     As  for  the  vulgar  concerns 


MARRIAGE.  219 

of  meat  and  drink,  servants'  wages,  taxes,  and  so  forth, 
they  never  found  a  place  in  the  calculations  of  either. 
Birthday  dresses,  fetes,  operas,  equipages,  and  state 
liveries  whirled  in  rapid  succession  through  Lady 
Juliana's  brain,  while  clubs,  curricles,  horses,  and 
claret,  took  possession  of  her  husband's  mind. 

However  much  they  differed  in  the  proposed 
modes  of  showing  off  in  London,  both  agreed  per- 
fectly in  the  necessity  of  going  there,  and  Henry 
therefore  hastened  to  inform  his  father  of  the  change 
in  his  circumstances,  and  apprise  him  of  his  inten* 

tion  of  immediately  joining  his  regiment,  the  

Guards. 

"  Seven  hunder  pound  a  year ! "  exclaimed  the  old 
gentleman ;  "  Seven  hunder  pound  !  Oo  what  can  ye 
mak'  o'  a'  that  siller  1  Ye'll  surely  lay  by  the  half  o't 
to  tocher  your  bairns.  Seven  hunder  pound  a  year 
for  doing  naething  !  " 

Miss  Jacky  was  afraid,  unless  they  got  some  person 
of  sense  (which  would  not  be  an  easy  matter)  to  take 
the  management  of  it,  it  would  perhaps  be  found 
little  enough  in  the  long-run. 

Miss  Grizzy  declared  it  was  a  very  handsome 
income,  nobody  could  dispute  that ;  at  the  same  time, 
everybody  must  allow  that  the  money  could  not  have 
been  better  bestowed. 

Miss  Nicky  observed  "there  was  a  great  deal  of 
good  eating  and  drinking  in  seven  hundred  a  year,  if 
people  knew  how  to  manage  it." 

All  was  bustle  and  preparation  throughout  Gleii- 


220  MAERIAGE. 

fern  Castle,  and  the  young  ladies'  good-natured 
activity  and  muscular  powers  were  again  in  requi- 
sition to  collect  the  wardrobe,  and  pack  the  trunks, 
imperial,  etc.,  of  their  noble  sister. 

Glenfern  remarked  "  that  fules  Avar  fond  o'  flitting, 
for  they  seemed  glad  to  leave  the  good  quarters  they 
were  in." 

Miss  Grizzy  declared  there  was  a  great  excuse  for 
their  being  glad,  poor  things !  young  people  were 
always  so  fond  of  a  change  ;  at  the  same  time,  nobody 
could  deny  but  that  it  would  have  been  quite  natural 
for  them  to  feel  sorry  too. 

Miss  Jacky  was  astonished  how  any  person's  mind 
could  be  so  callous  as  to  think  of  leaving  Glenfern 
without  emotion. 

Miss  Nicky  wondered  what  was  to  become  of  the 
christening  cake  she  had  ordered  from  Perth ;  it 
might  be  as  old  as  the  hills  before  there  would  be 
another  child  born  amongst  them. 

The  Misses  were  ready  to  weep  at  the  disappoint- 
ment of  the  dreaming-bread. 

In  the  midst  of  all  this  agitation,  mental  and 
bodily,  the  long-looked-for  moment  arrived.  The 
carriage  drove  round  ready  packed  and  loaded,  and, 
absolutely  screaming  with  delight,  Lady  Juliana 
sprang  into  it.  As  she  nodded  and  kissed  her  hand 
to  the  assembled  group,  she  impatiently  called  to 
Henry  to  follow.  His  adieus  were,  however,  not 
quite  so  tonish  as  those  of  his  high-bred  lady,  for  he 
went  duly  and  severally  through  all  the  evolutions  of 


MARRIAGE.  221 

kissing,  embracing,  shaking  of  hands,  and  promises  to 
write  ;  then  taking  his  station  by  the  side  of  the  nurse 
and  child — the  rest  of  the  carriage  being  completely 
filled  by  the  favourites — he  bade  a  long  farewell  to 
his  paternal  halls  and  the  land  of  his  birth. 


CHAPTEE  XX. 

"  For  trifles,  why  should  I  displease 
The  man  I  love  ?  For  trifles  such  as  these 
To  serious  mischiefs  lead  the  man  I  love." 

Horace. 

Bright  prospects  of  future  happiness  and  endless 
plans  of  expense  floated  through  Lady  Juliana's  brain, 
and  kept  her  temper  in  some  degree  of  serenity  during 
the  journey. 

Arrived  in  London,  she  expressed  herself  enrap- 
tured at  being  once  more  in  a  civilised  country,  and 
restored  to  the  society  of  human  creatures.  An 
elegant  house  and  suitable  establishment  were  im- 
mediately provided;  and  a  thousand  dear  friends, 
who  had  completely  forgotten  her  existence,  were  now 
eager  to  welcome  her  to  her  former  haunts,  and 
lead  her  thoughtless  and  willing  steps  in  the  paths 
of  dissipation  and  extravagance. 

Soon  after  their  arrival  they  were  visited  by 
General  Cameron.  It  was  two  o'clock,  yet  Lady 
Juliana  had  not  appeared ;  and  Henry,  half-stretched 
upon  a  sofa,  was  dawdling  over  his  breakfast  with 
half-a-dozen  newspapers  scattered  round. 

The  first  salutations  over,  the  General  demanded, 


MARRIAGE.  223 

"  Am  I  not  to  be  favoured  with  a  sight  of  your  lady  1 
Is  she  afraid  that  I  am  one  of  your  country  relations, 
and  taken  her  flight  from  the  breakfast- table  in  con- 
sequence?" 

"She  has  not  yet  made  her  apjDearance,"  replied 
Douglas  ;  "  but  I  will  let  her  know  you  are  here.  I 
am  sure  she  will  be  happy  to  make  acquaintance  with 
one  to  whom  I  am  so  much  indebted." 

A  message  was  despatched  to  Lady  Juliana,  who 
returned  for  answer  that  she  would  be  down  imme- 
<liately.  Three  quarters  of  an  hour,  however,  elapsed ; 
and  the  General,  provoked  with  this  inattention  and 
affectation,  was  preparing  to  depart  when  the  Lady 
made  her  appearance. 

*'  Juliana,  my  love,"  said  her  husband,  "  let  me 
present  you  to  General  Cameron — the  generous  friend 
who  has  acted  the  part  of  a  father  towards  me,  and  to 
whom  you  owe  all  the  comforts  you  enjoy." 

Lady  Juliana  slightly  bowed  with  careless  ease,  and 
half  uttered  a  "  How  d'ye  do? — very  happy  indeed,"  as 
she  glided  on  to  pull  the  bell  for  breakfast.  "  Cupid, 
Cupid  !"  cried  she  to  the  dog,  who  had  flown  upon  the 
General,  and  was  barking  most  vehemently.  "  Poor 
darling  Cupid !  are  you  almost  starved  to  death  1 
Harry,  do  give  him  that  muffin  on  your  plate." 

"You  are  very  late  to-day,  my  love,"  cried  the 
mortified  husband. 

"  I  have  been  pestered  for  the  last  hour  with  Duvai 
and  the  court  dresses,  and  I  could  not  fix  on  what  I 
should  like." 


224  MARRIAGE. 

"  I  think  you  might  have  deferred  the  ceremony  of 
choosing  to  another  opportunity.  General  Cameron 
has  been  here  above  an  hour." 

"Dear  !  I  hope  you  did  not  wait  for  me.  I  shall 
be  quite  shocked  ! "  drawled  out  her  ladyship  in  a 
tone  denoting  how  very  indifterent  the  answer  would 
be  to  her, 

"  I  beg  your  ladyship  would  be  under  no  uneasi- 
ness on  that  account,"  replied  the  General  in  an 
ironical  tone,  which,  though  lost  upon  her,  was 
obvious  enough  to  Henry. 

"Have  you  breakfasted?"  asked  Lady  Juliana, 
exerting  herself  to  be  polite. 

"Absurd,  my  love  ! "  cried  her  husband.  "  Do  you 
suppose  I  should  have  allowed  the  General  to  wait 
for  that  too  all  this  time,  if  he  had  not  breakfasted 
many  hours  ago?" 

"  How  cross  you  are  this  morning,  my  Harry !  I 
protest  my  Cupidon  is  quite  ashamed  of  your  gros- 
siereU  !  " 

A  servant  now  entered  to  say  Mr.  Shagg  was  come 
to  know  her  ladyship's  final  decision  about  the 
hammer-cloths ;  and  the  new  footman  was  come  to 
be  engaged ;  and  the  china  merchant  was  below. 

"  Send  up  one  of  them  at  a  time ;  and  as  to  the 
footman,  you  may  say  I'll  have  him  at  once,"  said 
Lady  Juliana. 

"I  thought  you  had  engaged  Mrs.  D.'s  footman 
last  week.  She  gave  him  the  best  character,  did  she 
not?"  asked  her  husband. 


MARRIAGE.  225 

"  Oh  yes  !  his  character  was  good  enough  ;  hut  he 
was  a  horrid  cheat  for  all  that.  He  called  himself 
five  feet  nine,  and  when  he  was  measured  he  turned 
out  to  be  only  five  feet  seven  and  a  half." 

"  Pshaw  ! "  exclaimed  Henry  angrily.  "  What  the 
devil  did  that  signify  if  the  man  had  a  good  cha- 
racter?" 

"How  absurdly  }'ou  talk,  Hany,  as  if  a  man's 
character  signified  who  has  nothing  to  do  but  to 
stand  behind  my  carriage !  A  pretty  figure  he'd 
made  there  beside  Thomas,  who  is  at  least  five  feet 
ten!" 

The  entrance  of  IVIr.  Shagg,  bowing  and  scraping, 
and  laden  with  cloths,  lace,  and  fringes,  interrupted 
the  conversation. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Shagg,"  cried  Lady  Juliana,  "  what's  to 
be  done  with  that  odious  leopard's  skin  1  You  must 
positively  take  it  off"  my  hands.  I  would  rather  never 
go  in  a  carriage  again  as  show  myself  in  the  Park  with 
that  frightful  thing." 

"Certainly,  my  Lady,"  replied  the  obsequious  Mr. 
Shagg,  "  anything  your  Ladyship  pleases  ;  your  Lady- 
ship can  have  any  hammer-cloth  you  like;  and  I 
have  accordingly  brought  patterns  of  the  very  newest 
fashions  for  your  Ladyship  to  make  choice.  Here 
are  some  uncommon  elegant  articles.  At  the  same 
time,  my  Lady,  your  Ladyship  must  be  sensible  that 
it  is  impossible  that  we  can  take  back  the  leopard's 
skin.  It  was  not  only  cut  out  to  fit  your  Ladyship's 
coach-box — and  consequently  your  Ladyship  under- 
VOL.  I.  Q  u. 


226  MARRIAGE. 

stands  it-  would  not  fit  any  other — but  the  silver  feet 
and  crests  have  also  been  afl&xed  quite  ready  for  use, 
so  that  the  article  is  quite  lost  to  us.  I  am  confident, 
therefore,  that  your  Ladyship  will  consider  of  this, 
and  allow  it  to  be  put  down  in  your  bill." 

"  Put  it  anywhere  but  on  my  coach-box,  and  don't 
bore  me  ! "  answered  Lady  Juliana,  tossing  over  the 
patterns,  and  humming  a  tune. 

"  What,"  said  her  husband,  "  is  that  the  leopard's 
skin  you  were  raving  about  last  week,  and  are  you 
tired  of  it  before  it  has  been  used  1" 

"And  no  wonder.  Who  do  you  think  I  saw  in 
the  Park  yesterday  but  that  old  quiz  Lady  Denham, 
just  come  from  the  country,  with  her  frightful  old 
coach  set  off  with  a  hammer-cloth  precisely  like  the 
one  I  had  ordered.  Only  fancy  people  saying.  Lady 
Denham  sets  the  fashion  for  Lady  Juliana  Douglas ! 
Oh,  there's  confusion  and  despair  in  the  thought !" 

Confusion,  at  least,  if  not  despair,  was  painted  in 
Henry's  face  as  he  saw  the  General's  glance  directed 
alternately  with  contempt  at  Lady  Juliana,  and  at 
himself,  mingled  with  pity.  He  continued  to  fidget 
about  in  all  directions,  while  Lady  Juliana  talked 
nonsense  to  Mr.  Shagg,  and  wondered  if  the  General 
never  meant  to  go  away.  But  he  calmly  kept  his 
ground  till  the  man  was  dismissed,  and  another  intro- 
duced, loaded  with  china  jars,  monsters,  and  distorted 
teapots,  for  the  capricious  fair  one's  choice  and  appro- 
bation. 

"Beg  ten  thousand  pardons,   my  Lady,   for   not 


MAPtEIAGE.  227 

calling  yesterday,  according  to  appointment — quite  an 
unforeseen  impediment.  The  Countess  of  Godolphin 
had  somehow  got  private  intelligence  that  I  had  a  set 
of  fresh  commodities  just  cleared  from  the  custom- 
house, and  well  knowing  such  things  are  not  long  in 
hand,  her  La'ship  came  up  from  the  country  on  pur- 
pose— the  Countess  has  so  much  taste  ! — she  drove 
straight  to  my  warehouse,  and  kept  me  a  close  prisoner 
till  after  your  La'ship's  hour ;  but  I  hope  it  may  not 
be  taken  amiss,  seeing  that  it  is  not  a  customary  thing 
with  us  to  be  calling  on  customers,  not  to  mention 
that  this  line  of  goods  is  not  easily  transported  about. 
However,  I  flatter  myself  the  articles  now  brought 
for  your  Ladyship's  inspection  will  not  be  found  be- 
neath your  notice.  Please  to  observe  this  choice  piece 
• — it  represents  a  Chinese  cripple  squat  on  the  ground, 
with  his  legs  crossed.  Your  Ladyship  may  observe 
the  head  and  chin  advanced  forwards,  as  in  the  act  of 
begging.  The  tea  pours  from  the  open  mouth ;  and, 
till  your  Ladyship  tries,  you  can  have  no  idea  of  the 
elegant  effect  it  produces." 

"That  is  really  droll,"  cried  Lady  Juliana,  with  a 
laugh  of  delight ;  "  and  I  must  have  the  dear  sick 
beggar;  he  is  so  deliciously  hideous." 

"And  here,"  continued  Mr.  Brittle,  "is  an  amaz- 
ing delicate  article,  in  the  way  of  a  jewel — a  frog  of 
Turkish  agate  for  burning  pastiles  in,  my  Lady ;  just 
such  as  they  use  in  the  seraglio ;  and  indeed  this  one 
I  may  call  invaluable,  for  it  was  the  favourite  toy  of 
one  of  the  widowed  Sultanas  till  she  grew  devout  and 


228  MARRIAGE. 

gave  up  perfumes.  One  of  her  slaves  disposed  of  it 
to  my  foreign  partner.  Here  it  opens  at  the  tail, 
where  you  put  in  the  pastiles,  and  closing  it  up,  the 
vapour  issues  beautifully  through  the  nostrils,  eyes, 
ears,  and  mouth,  all  at  once.  Here,  sir,"  turning  to 
Douglas,  "  if  you  are  curious  in  new  workmanship,  I 
would  have  you  examine  this.  I  defy  any  jeweller  in 
London  to  come  up  to  the  fineness  of  these  hinges, 
and  delicacy  of  the  carving — — " 

"  Pshaw,  damn  it ! "  said  Douglas,  turning  away, 
and  addressing  some  remark  to  the  General,  who  was 
provokingly  attentive  to  everything  that  went  on. 

"  Here,"  continued  Mr.  Brittle,  "  are  a  set  of  jars, 
teapots,  mandarins,  sea-monsters,  and  pug-dogs,  all  of 
superior  beauty,  but  such  as  your  Ladyship  may  have 
seen  before." 

"  Oh,  the  dear,  dear  little  puggies  !  I  must  have 
them  to  amuse  my  own  darlinga  I  protest  here  is 
one  the  image  of  Psyche  ;  positively  I  must  kiss  it ! " 

"  Oh  dear  !  I  am  sure,"  cried  Mr.  Brittle,  simpering, 
and  making  a  conceited  bow,  "  your  Ladyship  does  it 
and  me  too  much  honour.  But  here,  as  I  was  going 
to  say,  is  the  phoenix  of  all  porcelain  ware — the  ne 
plus  ultra  of  perfection — what  I  have  kept  in  my  back 
room,  concealed  from  all  eyes,  until  your  Ladyship 
shall  pronounce  upon  it.  Somehow  one  of  my  shop- 
men got  word  of  it,  and  told  her  Grace  of  L (who 

has  a  pretty  taste  in  these  things  for  a  young  lady) 
that  I  had  some  particular  choice  article  that  I  was 
keeping  for  a  lady  that  was  a  favourite  of  mine.     Her 


MARRIAGE.  229 

Grace  was  in  the  shop  the  matter  of  a  full  hour  and  a 
half,  trying  to  wheedle  me  out  of  a  sight  of  this  rare 
piece ;  and  I,  pretending  not  to  know  what  her  Grace 
would  be  after,  but  showing  her  thing  after  thing,  to 
put  it  out  of  her  head.  But  she  was  not  so  easily 
bubbled,  and  at  last  went  away  ill  enough  pleased. 
Now,  my  Lady,  prepare  all  your  eyes."  He  then  went 
to  the  door,  and  returned,  carrying  with  difficulty  a 
large  basket,  which  till  then  had  been  kept  by  one  of 
his  satellites.  After  removing  coverings  of  all  de- 
scriptions, an  uncouth  group  of  monstrous  size  was  dis- 
played, which,  on  investigation,  appeared  to  be  a  serpent 
coiled  in  regular  folds  round  the  body  of  a  tiger  placed 
on  end ;  and  the  whole  structure,  which  was  intended 
for  a  vessel  of  some  kind,  was  formed  of  the  celebrated 
green  mottled  china,  invaluable  to  connoisseurs. 

"  View  that  well,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Brittle,  in  a  trans- 
port of  enthusiasm,  "  for  such  a  specimen  not  one  of 
half  the  size  has  ever  been  imported  to  Europe.  There 
is  a  long  story  about  this  my  phoenix,  as  I  call  it ;  but, 
to  be  brief,  it  was  secretly  procured  from  one  of  the 
temples,  where,  gigantic  as  it  may  seem,  and  uncouth 
for  the  purpose,  it  was  the  idol's  principal  teapot ! " 

"Oh  delicious!"  cried  Lady  Juliana,  clasping  her 
hands  in  ecstasj^  "  I  will  give  a  party  for  the  sole 
purpose  of  drinking  tea  out  of  this  machine ;  and  I 
will  have  the  whole  room  fitted  up  like  an  Indian 
temple.     Oh  !  it  will  be  so  ncAV  !     I  die  to  send  out  my 

cards.     The  Duchess  of  B told  me  the  other  day, 

with  such  a  triumphant  air,  when  I  was  looking  at 


230  MARRIAGE. 

her  two  little  green  jars,  not  a  quarter  the  size  of  this, 
that  there  was  not  a  bit  more  of  that  china  to  be  had 
for  love  or  money.  Oh,  she  will  be  so  provoked ! " 
And  she  absolutely  skipped  for  joy. 

A  loud  rap  at  the  door  now  announcing  a  visitor, 
Lady  Juliana  ran  to  the  balcony,  crying,  "Oh,  it  must 
be  Lady  Gerard,  for  she  promised  to  call  early  in  the 
morning,  that  we  might  go  together  to  a  wonderful 
sale  in  some  far-off  place  in  the  city — at  Wapping,  for 
aught  I  know.  Mr.  Brittle,  Mr.  Brittle,  for  the  love 
of  heaven,  carry  the  dragon  into  the  back  drawing- 
room — I  purchase  it,  remember  ! — make  haste  ! — Lady 
Gerard  is  not  to  get  a  glimpse  of  it  for  the  world." 

The  servant  now  entered  with  a  message  from  Lady 
Gerard,  who  would  not  alight,  begging  that  Lady 
Juliana  would  make  haste  down  to  her,  as  they  had 
not  a  moment  to  lose.  She  was  flying  away,  without 
further  ceremony  than  a  "Pray,  excuse  me,"  to  the 
General,  when  her  husband  called  after  her  to  know 
whether  the  child  Avas  gone  out,  as  he  wished  to  show 
her  to  the  General. 

"I  don't  know,  indeed,"  replied  the  fashionable 
mother ;  "I  haven't  had  time  to  see  her  to-day ;"  and, 
before  Douglas  could  reply  she  was  downstairs. 

A  pause  ensued — the  General  Avhistled  a  quick 
step,  and  Douglas  walked  up  and  down  the  room  in  a 
pitiable  state  of  mind,  guessing  pretty  much  what  was 
passing  in  the  mind  of  his  friend,  and  fully  sensible 
that  it  must  be  of  a  severer  nature  than  anything  he 
could  yet  allow  himself  to  think  of  his  Juliana. 


MARRIAGE.  231 

"Douglas,"  said  the  General,  "have  you  made  any 
step  towards  a  reconciliation  with  your  father-in-law  ? 
I  believe  it  will  become  shortly  necessary  for  your 
support. " 

"  Juliana  wrote  twice  after  her  marriage,"  replied 
he ;  "  but  the  reception  which  her  letters  met  with 
was  not  such  as  to  encourage  perseverance  on  our  part. 
With  regard  to  myself,  it  is  not  an  aftair  in  which 
delicacy  will  permit  me  to  be  very  active,  as  I  might 
be  accused  of  mercenary  motives,  which  I  am  far  from 
having." 

"  Oh,  of  that  I  acquit  you  ;  but  surely  it  ought  to 
be  a  matter  of  moment,  even  to  a — Lady  Juliana. 
The  case  is  now  altered.  Time  must  have  accustomed 
biTin  to  the  idea  of  this  imaginary  affront ;  and,  on  my 
honour,  if  he  thought  like  a  gentleman  and  a  man  of 
sense,  I  know  where  he  would  think  the  misfortune 
lay.  Nay,  don't  interrupt  me.  The  old  Earl  must 
now,  I  say,  have  cooled  in  his  resentment ;  perhaps, 
too,  his  grandchildren  may  soften  his  heart;  this 
must  have  occurred  to  you.  Has  her  Ladyship  taken 
any  further  steps  since  her  arrival  in  town  1 " 

"  I — I  believe  she  has  not ;  but  I  will  put  her  in 
mind." 

*'A  daughter  who  requires  to  have  her  memory 
refreshed  on  such  a  subject  is  likely  to  make  a  valu- 
able wife  ! "  said  the  General  dril3\ 

Douglas  felt  as  if  it  was  incumbent  on  him  to  be 
angry,  but  remained  silent. 

"Hark  ye,  Douglas,"  continued  the  General,   "I 


232  MAEKIAGE. 

speak  this  for  yonr  interest.     You  cannot  go  on  with- 
out the  Earl's  help.     You  know  I  am  not  on  ceremony 
with  you ;  and  if  I  refrain  from  saying  what  you  see 
I  think  about  your  present  ruinous  mode  of  life,  it 
is  not  to  spare  your  feelings,  but  from  a  sense  of  the 
uselessness  of  any  such  remonstrance.     What  I  do 
give  you  is  with  goodwill ;  but  all  my  fortune  would 
not  suffice  to  furnish  pug-dogs  and  deformed  teapots 
for  such  a  vitiated  taste  ;  and  if  it  would,  hang  me  if 
it  should !     But  enough  on  this  head.     The  Earl  has 
been  in  bad  health,  and  is  lately  come  to  town.     His 
son,  too,  and  his  lady  are  to  come  about  the  same  time, 
and  are  to  reside  with  him  during  the  season.    I  have 
heard  Lord  Lindore  spoken  of  as  a  good-natured  easy 
man,  and  he  would  probably  enter  willingly  into  any 
scheme  to  reinstate  his  sister  into  his  father's  good 
graces.     Think  of  this,  and  make  what  you  can  of  it ; 
and  my  particular  advice  to  you  personally  is,  try  to 
exchange  into  a  marching  regiment ;  for  a  fellow  like 
you,  with  such  a  wife,  London  is  the  very  devil !  and 
80  good  morning  to  you."     He  snatched  up  his  hat, 
and  was  off  in  a  moment. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

*•  To  reckon  up  a  thousand  of  her  pranks, 

Her  pride,  her  wasteful  spending,  her  unkindness, 

Her  scolding,  pouting,  .  .  . 

Were  to  reap  an  endless  catalogue." 

Old  Play. 

When  Lady  Juliana  returned  from  her  expedition,  it 
was  so  late  that  Douglas  had  not  time  to  speak  to  her; 
and  separate  engagements  carrying  them  different 
ways,  he  had  no  opportunity  to  do  so  until  the  follow- 
ing morning  at  breakfast.  He  then  resolved  no  longer 
to  defer  what  he  had  to  say,  and  began  by  reproaching 
her  with  the  cavalier  manner  in  which  she  had  behaved 
to  his  good  friend  the  General. 

"Upon  my  life,  Harry,  you  are  grown  perfectly 
savage,"  cried  his  Lady.  "I  was  most  particularly 
civil ;  I  wonder  what  you  would  have  me  to  do  1  You 
know  very  well  I  cannot  have  anything  to  say  to  old 
men  of  that  sort." 

"I  think,"  returned  Henry,  "you  might  have  been 
gratified  by  making  an  acquaintance  with  my  bene- 
factor, and  the  man  to  whom  you  owe  the  enjoyment 
of  your  favourite  pleasures.  At  any  rate,  you  need 
not   have   made   yourself  ridiculous.      May  I  perish 


234  MARRIAGE. 

if  I  did  not  wish  myself  underground  while  you 
were  talking  nonsense  to  those  sneaking  rascals  who 
wheedle  you  out  of  your  money  !  S'death  !  I  had  a 
good  mind  to  throw  them  and  their  trumpery  out 
of  the  window  when  I  saw  you  make  such  a  fool  of 
yourself." 

"  A  fool  of  myself  !  how  foolishly  you  talk  !  and  as 
for  that  vulgar,  awkward  General,  he  ought  to  have 
been  too  much  flattered.  Some  of  the  monsters  were 
so  like  himself,  I  am  sure  he  must  have  thought  I 
took  them  for  the  love  of  his  round  bare  pate." 

"  Upon  my  soul,  Julia,  I  am  ashamed  of  you  !  Do 
leave  off  this  excessive  folly,  and  try  to  be  rational. 
What  I  particularly  wished  to  say  to  you  is  that  your 
father  is  in  town,  and  it  will  be  proper  that  you  should 
make  another  effort  to  be  reconciled  to  him." 

"I  date  say  it  will,"  answered  Lady  Juliana,  with 
a  yawn- 

"And  you  must  lose  no  time.  When  will  you 
write  ? " 

"  There's  no  use  in  writing,  or  indeed  doing  any- 
thing in  the  matter.     I  am  sure  he  won't  forgive  me." 

"  And  why  not  ? " 

"  Oh,  why  should  he  do  it  now  ?  He  did  not  for- 
give me  when  I  asked  him  before." 

"  And  do  you  think,  then,  for  a  father's  forgiveness 
it  is  not  worth  while  to  have  a  little  perseverance  ? " 

"  I  am  sure  he  won't  do  it ;  so  'tis  in  vain  to  try," 
repeated  she,  going  to  the  glass,  and  singing,  ^^  Papa 
non  dite  di  no,"  etc. 


MAERIAGE.  235 

"By  heavens,  Julia!"  cried  her  husband  passion- 
ately, "  you  are  past  all  endurance !  Can  nothing 
touch  you  1 — nothing  fix  your  thoughts,  and  make 
you  serious  for  a  single  moment  ?  Can  I  not  make 
you  understand  that  you  are  ruining  yourself  and  me; 
that  we  have  nothing  to  depend  upon  but  the  bounty 
of  that  man  whom  you  disgust  by  your  caprice,  extra- 
vagance, and  impertinence  ;  and  that  if  you  don't  get 
reconciled  to  your  father  what  is  to  become  of  you  ? 
You  already  know  what  you  have  to  expect  from  my 
family,  and  how  you  like  living  with  thenu" 

"Heavens,  Harry!"  exclaimed  her  Ladyship,  "what 
is  all  this  tirade  about?  Is  it  because  I  said  papa 
wouldn't  forgive  me?  I'm  sure  I  don't  mind  writ- 
ing to  him ;  I  have  no  objection,  the  first  leisure 
moment  I  have  ;  but  really,  in  town,  one's  time  is  so 
engrossed. " 

At  this  moment  her  maid  entered  in  triumph, 
carrying  on  her  arms  a  satin  dress,  embroidered  with 
gold  and  flowers. 

"See,  my  Lady,"  cried  she,  "your  new  robe,  as 
Madame  has  sent  home  half  a  day  sooner  than  her 
word ;  and  she  has  disobliged  sevei-al  of  the  quality 
by  not  giving  the  pattern." 

"Oh,  lovely!  charming!  Spread  it  out,  Gage;  hold 
it  to  the  light ;  all  my  own  fancy.  Only  look,  Harry ; 
how  exquisite  1  how  divine  ! " 

Harry  had  no  time  to  express  his  contempt  for 
embroidered  robes  ;  for  just  then  one  of  his  knowing 
friends  came,  by  appointment,  to  accompany  him  to 


236  MARRIAGE. 

Tattersal's,  where  he  Avas  to  bid  for  a  famous  pair  of 
curricle  grays. 

Days  passed  on  Avithout  Lady  Juhana's  ever  think- 
ing it  worth  while  to  follow  her  husband's  advice 
about  applying  to  her  father;  until  a  week  after, 
Douglas  overheard  the  following  conversation  between 
his  wife  and  one  of  her  acquaintance. 

"You  are  going  to  this  grand  fete,  of  course,"  said 
;Mrs.  G.  "I'm  told  it  is  to  eclipse  everything  that 
has  been  yet  seen  or  heard  of." 

"  Of  what  fete  do  you  speak  V  demanded  Lady 
Juliana. 

"  Lord,  my  dear  creature,  how  Gothic  you  are ! 
Don't  you  know  anything  about  this  grand  affair  that 
everybody  has  been  talking  of  for  two  days  1  Lady 
Lindore  gives,  at  your  father's  house,  an  entertain- 
ment which  is  to  be  a  concert,  ball,  and  masquerade 
at  once.  All  London  is  asked,  of  any  distinction,  c'a 
s'entend.  But,  bless  me,  I  beg  pardon,  I  totally  forgot 
that  you  were  not  on  the  best  terms  possible  in  that 
quarter ;  but  never  mind,  we  must  have  you  go  ;  there 
is  not  a  person  of  fashion  that  will  stay  away ;  I  must 
get  you  asked ;  I  shall  petition  Lady  Lindore  in  your 
favour." 

"Oh  pray  don't  trouble  yourself,"  cried  Lady 
Juliana,  in  extreme  pique,  "  I  believe  I  can  get  this 
done  without  your  obliging  interference ;  but  I  don't 
know  whether  I  shall  be  in  town  then." 

From  this  moment  Lady  Juliana  resolved  to  make 
a  vigorous  effort  to  regain  a  footing  in  her  father's 


MARRIAGE.  237 

house.  Her  first  action  the  next  morning  was  to 
write  to  her  brother,  who  had  hitherto  kept  aloof, 
because  he  could  not  be  at  the  trouble  of  having  a 
difference  with  the  Earl,  entreating  him  to  use  his 
influence  in  promoting  a  reconciliation  between  her 
father  and  herself. 

No  answer  was  returned  for  four  days,  at  the  end 
of  which  time  Lady  Juliana  received  the  following 
note  from  her  brother  : — 

"  Dear  Julia — I  quite  agree  with  you  in  thinking 
that  you  have  been  kept  long  enough  in  the  comer, 
and  shall  certainly  tell  Papa  that  you  are  ready  to 
become  a  good  girl  whenever  he  shall  please  to  take 
you  out  of  it.  I  shall  endeavour  to  see  Douglas  and 
you  soon. — Yours  affectionately,  LiNDORE." 

"Lady  Lindore  desires  me  to  say  you  can  have 
tickets  for  her  ball,  if  you  choose  to  come  en  masque." 

Lady  Juliana  Avas  delighted  with  this  billet,  which 
she  protested  was  everything  that  was  kind  and 
generous ;  but  the  postscript  was  the  part  on  which 
she  dwelt  with  the  greatest  delight,  as  she  repeatedly 
declared  it  was  a  great  deal  more  than  she  expected. 
"  You  see,  Harry,"  said  she,  as  she  tossed  the  note  to 
him,  "  I  was  in  the  right.  Papa  won't  forgive  me ; 
but  Lindore  says  he  Avill  send  me  a  ticket  for  the 
fite ;  it  is  vastly  attentive  of  him,  for  I  did  not  ask 
it  But  I  must  go  disguised,  which  is  monstrous  pro- 
voking, for  I'm  afraid  nobody  will  know  me." 


238  MARRIAGE. 

A  dispute  here  ensued.  Henry  sAvore  she  should 
not  steal  into  her  father's  house  as  long  as  she  was 
his  wife.  The  lady  insisted  that  she  should  go  to  her 
brother's  fete  when  she  was  invited ;  and  the  alter- 
cation ended  as  altercations  commonly  do,  leaving 
both  parties  more  wedded  to  their  own  opinion  than 
at  first. 

In  the  evening  Lady  Juliana  went  to  a  large  party ; 
and  as  she  was  passing  from  one  room  into  another 
she  was  startled  by  a  little  paper  pellet  thrown  at 
her.  Turning  round  to  look  for  the  offender,  she 
saw  her  brother  standing  at  a  little  distance,  smiling 
at  her  surprise.  This  was  the  first  time  she  had  seen 
him  for  two  years,  and  she  went  up  to  him  with  an 
extended  hand,  while  he  gave  her  a  familiar  nod,  and 
a  "How  d'ye  do,  Julia?"  and  one  finger  of  his  hand, 
while  he  turned  round  to  speak  to  one  of  his  com- 
panions. Nothing  could  be  more  characteristic  of 
both  parties  than  tliis  fraternal  meeting  ;  and  from 
this  time  they  were  the  best  friends  imaginable. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

"  Helas  !  ou  done  chercher  ou  trouver  le  bonheur, 
Nulle  part  tout  entier,  partout  avec  mesure  I" 

Voltaire. 

Some  days  before  the  expected  fete  Lady  Juliana,  at 
the  instigation  of  her  adviser,  Lady  Gerard,  resolved 

upon  taking  the  field  against  the  Duchess  of  L . 

Her  Grace  had  issued  cards  for  a  concert ;  and  after 
mature  deliberation  it  was  decided  that  her  rival 
should  strike  out  something  new,  and  announce  a 
christening  for  the  same  night. 

The  first  intimation  Douglas  had  of  the  honour 
intended  him  by  this  arrangement  Avas  through  the 
medium  of  the  newspaper,  for  the  husband  and  "nife 
were  now  much  too  fashionable  to  be  at  all  au  fait  of 
each  other's  schemes.  His  first  emotion  was  to  be 
extremely  surprised ;  the  next  to  be  exceedingly  dis- 
pleased ;  and  the  last  to  be  highly  gratified  at  the 
eclat  with  which  his  child  was  to  be  made  a  Christian. 
True,  he  had  intended  requesting  the  General  to  act 
as  godfather  upon  the  occasion ;  but  Lady  Juliana 
protested  she  would  rather  the  child  never  should  be 
christened  at  all  (which  already  seemed  nearly  to 
have  been  the  case)  than  have  that  cross  vulgar-look 


240  MARKIAGE. 

ing  man  to  stand  sponsor.  Her  Ladyship,  however, 
so  far  conceded  that  the  General  was  to  have  the 
honour  of  giving  his  name  to  the  next,  if  a  boy,  for 
she  was  now  near  her  second  confinement ;  and,  with 
this  promise  Henry  was  satisfied  to  sh'ght  the  only 
being  in  the  world  to  whom  he  looked  for  support  to 
himself  and  his  children.  In  the  utmost  delight  the 
fond  mother  drove  away  to  consult  her  confidants 
upon  the  name  and  decorations  of  the  child,  whom 
she  had  not  even  looked  at  for  many  days. 

Everything  succeeded  to  admiration.  Amid  crowds 
of  spectators,  in  all  the  pomp  of  lace  and  satin,  sur- 
rounded by  princes  and  peers,  and  handed  from 
duchesses  to  countesses,  the  twin  daughter  of  Henry 
Douglas,  and  the  heroine  of  future  story,  became  a 
Christian  by  the  names  of  Adelaide  Julia. 

Some  months  previous  to  this  event  Lady  Juliana 
had  received  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Douglas,  informing 
her  of  the  rapid  improvement  that  had  taken  place  in 
her  little  charge,  and  requesting  to  know  by  what 
name  she  should  have  her  christened  ;  at  the  same 
time  gently  insinuating  her  Avish  that,  in  compliance 
with  the  custom  of  the  country,  and  as  a  compliment 
due  to  the  family,  it  should  be  named  after  its  pater- 
nal grandmother. 

Lady  Juliana  glanced  over  the  first  line  of  the 
letter,  then  looked  at  the  signature,  resolved  to  read 
the  rest  as  soon  as  she  should  have  time  to  answer  it ; 
and  in  the  meantime  tossed  it  into  a  drawer,  amongst 
old  visiting  cards  and  unpaid  bills. 


MARRIAGE.  241 

After  vainl)''  waiting  for  an  answer,  much  beyond 
the  accustomed  time  when  children  are  baptized,  ^Irs. 
Douglas  could  no  longer  refuse  to  accede  to  the  de- 
sires of  the  venerable  inmates  of  Glenfern  ;  and  about 
a  month  before  her  favoured  sister  received  her  more 
elegant  appellations,  the  neglected  twin  was  baptized 
by  the  name  of  Mary. 

Mi's.  Douglas's  letter  had  been  enclosed  in  the 
following  one  from  Miss  Grizzy,  and  as  it  had  not 
the  good  fortune  to  be  perused  by  the  person  to  whom 
it  was  addressed,  we  deem  it  but  justice  to  the  writer 
to  insert  it  here  : — 

"Glenfern  Castle,  July  30th,  17 — . 

"My  dearest  Niece,  Lady  Juliana  — I  am 
Certain,  as  indeed  we  all  are,  that  it  will  Afford  your 
Ladyship  and  our  dear  Nephew  the  greatest  Pleasure 
to  see  this  letter  Franked  by  our  Worthy  and  Eespect- 
able  Friend  Sir  Sampson  Maclaughlan,  Bart.,  especially 
as  it  is  the  First  he  has  ever  franked  ;  out  of  compli- 
ment to  you,  as  I  assure  you  he  admires  you  excess- 
ively, as  indeed  we  all  do.  At  the  same  Time,  you 
will  of  course,  I  am  sure.  Sympathise  with  us  all  in 
the  distress  Occasioned  by  the  melancholy  Death  of 
our  late  Most  Obliging  Member,  Duncan  M'Dunsmuir, 
Esquire,  of  Dhunacrag  and  Auchnagoil,  who  3'ou  never 
have  had  the  Pleasure  of  seeing.  What  renders  liis 
death  Particularly  distressing,  is,  that  Lady  Mac 
laughlan  is  of  opinion  it  Avas  entirely  owing  to  eating 

VOL.  L  R  11. 


242  MAT^EIAGE. 

Kaw  oysters,  and  damp  feet.  This  ought  to  be  a 
warning  to  all  Young  people  to  take  care  of  Wet  feet, 
and  Especially  eating  Raw  oysters,  which  are  certainly 
Highly  dangerous,  particularly  where  there  is  any 
Tendency  to  Gout.  I  hope,  my  dear  Niece,  you  have 
got  a  pair  of  Stout  walking  shoes,  and  that  both 
Henry  and  you  remember  to  Change  your  feet  after 
Walking.  I  am  told  Eaw  Oysters  are  much  the 
fashion  in  London  at  present ;  but  when  this  Fatal 
Event  comes  to  be  Known,  it  will  of  course  Alarm 
people  very  much,  and  put  them  upon  their  guard 
both  as  to  Damp  Feet  and  Raw  oysters.  Lady 
Maclaughlan  is  in  High  spirits  at  Sir  Sampson's  Suc- 
cess, though,  at  the  Same  Time,  I  assure  you,  she 
Felt  much  for  the  Distress  of  poor  Mr.  M'Dunsmuir, 
and  had  sent  him  a  Large  Box  of  Pills,  and  a  Bottle 
of  Gout  Tincture,  only  two  days  before  he  died. 
This  will  be  a  great  Thing  for  you,  and  especially  for 
Henry,  my  dear  niece,  as  Sir  Sampson  and  Lady 
Maclaughlan  are  going  to  London  directly  to  take  his 
Seat  in  Parliament;  and  she  Avill  make  a  point  of 
Paying  you  every  attention,  and  will  Matronise  you 
to  the  play,  and  any  other  Public  places  you  may  wish 
to  go ;  as  both  my  Sisters  and  I  are  of  opinion  you 
are  rather  Young  to  matronise  yourself  yet,  and  you 
could  not  get  a  more  Respectable  Matron  than  Lady 
Maclaughlan.  I  hope  Harry  wont  take  it  amiss  if 
Sir  Sampson  does  not  pay  him  so  much  Attention  as 
he  might  expect ;  but  he  says  that  he  will  not  be 
master  of  a  moment  of  his  own  Time  in  London.     He 


MARRIAGE.  243 

will  be  so  much  taken  up  with  the  King  and  the  Duke 
of  York,  that  he  is  afraid  he  will  Disoblige  a  great 
Number  of  the  Nobihty  by  it,  besides  injuring  his 
o^v^l  health  by  such  Constant  application  to  business. 
He  is  to  make  a  very  fine  Speech  in  Parliament,  but 
it  is  not  yet  Fixed  what  his  First  Motion  is  to  be  upon. 
He  himself  wishes  to  move  for  a  New  Subsidy  to  the 
Emperor  of  Germany ;  but  Lady  Maclaughlan  is  of 
opinion  that  it  would  be  better  to  Bring  in  a  Bill  for 
Building  a  bridge  over  the  Water  of  Dlin ;  which,  to 
be  sure,  is  very  much  wanted,  as  a  Horse  and  Cart 
were  drowned  at  the  Ford  last  Speat.  We  are  All,  I 
am  happy  to  Say,  in  excellent  Health.  Becky  is  re- 
covering from  the  Measles  as  well  as  could  be  Wished, 
and  the  Rose  ^  is  quite  gone  out  of  Bella's  Face. 
Beennie  has  been  prevented  from  Finishing  a  most 
Beautiful  Pair  of  bottle  Sliders  for  your  Ladyship  by 
a  whitlow,  but  it  is  now  Mending,  and  I  hope  will  be 
done  in  Time  to  go  with  Babby's  Vase  Carpet,  Avhich 
is  extremely  elegant,  by  Sir  S.  and  Lady  Maclaughlan. 
This  Place  is  in  great  Beauty  at  present,  and  the  new 
Byre  is  completely  finished.  My  Sisters  and  I  regret 
Excessively  that  Henry  and  you  should  have  seen 
Glenfern  to  such  disadvantage ;  but  when  next  you 
favour  us  with  a  visit,  I  hope  it  will  be  in  Summer, 
and  the  New  Bjto  you  will  think  a  Prodigious  Im- 
provement. Our  dear  Little  Grand-niece  is  in  great 
health,  and  much  improved.  We  reckon  her  Extremely 
like  our  Family,  Particularly  Becky ;  though  she  has 
^  Erysipelas. 


244  MARRIAGE, 

a  great  Look  of  Bella,  at  the  Same  Time,  when  she 
Laughs.  Excuse  the  Shortness  of  this  Letter,  my 
dear  Niece,  as  I  shall  Write  a  much  Longer  one  by 
Lady  Maclaughlan. 

"  Meantime,  I  remain,  my 

"  Dear  Lady  Juliana,  yours  and 

"  Henry's  most  affect,  aunt, 

"Grizzel  Douglas." 

In  spite  of  her  husband's  remonstrance  Lady  Juliana 
persisted  in  her  resolution  of  attending  her  sister-in- 
law's  masked  ball,  from  which  she  returned,  worn 
out  with  amusement  and  surfeited  with  pleasure  ;  pro- 
testing all  the  while  she  dawdled  over  her  evening 
breakfast  the  following  day  that  there  was  nobody 
in  the  world  so  much  to  be  envied  as  Lady  Lindore. 
Such  jewels !  such  dresses !  such  a  house !  such  a 
husband !  so  easy  and  good-natured,  and  rich  and 
generous  !  She  was  sure  Lindore  did  not  care  what 
his  wife  did.  She  might  give  what  parties  she  pleased, 
go  where  she  liked,  spend  as  much  money  as  she 
chose,  and  he  would  never  trouble  his  head  about  the 
matter.  She  was  quite  certain  Lady  Lindore  had  not 
a  single  thing  to  wish  for :  ergo,  she  must  be  the 
happiest  woman  in  the  world  !  All  this  was  addressed 
to  Henry,  who  had,  however,  attained  the  happy  art 
of  not  hearing  above  one  word  out  of  a  hundred  that 
happened  to  fall  from  the  "  angel  lips  of  his  adored 
Julia;"  and,  having  finished  the  newspapers,  and 
made  himself  acquainted  with  all  the  blood-horses, 


MARRIAGE.  245 

thorough -bred  fillies,  and  brood  mares  therein  set 
forth,  with  a  yawn  and  whistle  sauntered  away  to 
G 's,  to  look  at  the  last  regulation  epaulettes. 

Not  long  after,  as  Lady  Juliana  was  stepping  into 
the  carriage  that  was  to  whirl  her  to  Bond  Street  she 
was  met  by  her  husband,  who,  with  a  solemnity  of 
manner  that  would  have  startled  any  one  but  his 
volatile  lady,  requested  she  would  return  with  him 
into  the  house,  as  he  wished  to  converse  with  her 
upon  a  subject  of  some  importance.  He  prevailed  on 
her  to  return,  upon  condition  that  he  would  not  detain 
her  above  five  minutes.  When,  shutting  the  drawing- 
room  doors,  he  said,  with  earnestness,  "I  think,  Julia, 
you  were  talking  of  Lady  Lindore  this  morning : 
oblige  me  by  repeating  what  you  said,  as  I  was  read- 
ing the  papers,  and  really  did  not  attend  much  to 
what  passed." 

Her  Ladyship,  in  extreme  surprise,  wondered  how 
Harry  could  be  so  tiresome  and  absurd  as  to  stop  her 
airing  for  any  such  purpose.  She  really  did  not 
know  what  she  said.  How  could  she  %  It  was  more 
than  an  hour  ago. 

"Well,  then,  say  what  you  think  of  her  now," 
cried  Douglas  impatiently. 

"  Think  of  her !  why,  what  all  the  world  must 
think — that  she  is  the  happiest  woman  in  it.  She 
looked  so  uncommonly  well  last  night,  and  was  in 
such  spirits,  in  her  fancy  dress,  before  she  masked. 
After  that,  I  quite  last  sight  of  her." 

"  As  every  one  else  has  done.     She  has  not  been 


246  MARRIAGE. 

seen  since.  Her  favourite  St.  Leger  is  missing  too, 
and  there  is  hardly  a  doubt  but  that  they  are  gone  off 
together. " 

Even  Lady  Juliana  was  shocked  at  this  intelligence, 
though  the  folly,  more  than  the  wickedness,  of  the 
thing,  seemed  to  strike  her  mind ;  but  Henry  was  no 
nice  observer,  and  was  therefore  completely  satisfied 
with  the  disapprobation  she  expressed  for  her  sister- 
in-law's  conduct. 

"  I  am  so  sorry  for  poor  dear  Lindore,"  said  Lady 
Juliana  after  having  exhausted  herself  in  invectives 
against  his  wife.  "  Such  a  generous  creature  as  he 
to  be  used  in  such  a  manner — it  is  quite  shocking 
to  think  of  it !  If  he  had  been  an  ill-natured  stingy 
wretch  it  would  have  been  nothing ;  but  Frederick  is 
such  a  noble-hearted  fellow — I  dare  say  he  would  give 
me  a  thousand  pounds  if  I  were  to  ask  him,  for  he 
don't  care  about  money." 

"Lord  Lindore  takes  the  matter  very  coolly,  I 
understand,"  replied  her  husband ;  "  but — don't  be 
alarmed,  dear  Julia — your  father  has  suffered  a  little 
from  the  violence  of  his  feelings.  He  has  had  a  sort 
of  apoplectic  fit,  but  is  not  considered  in  immediate 
danger." 

Lady  Juliana  burst  into  tears,  desired  the  carriage 
might  be  put  up,  as  she  should  not  go  out,  and  even 

declared  her  intention  of  abstaining  from  Mrs.  D 's 

assembly  that  evening.  Henry  warmly  commended 
the  extreme  propriety  of  these  measures  ;  and,  not  to 
be  outdone  in  greatness  of  mind,  most  heroically  sent 


MAERIAGE.  247 

an  apology  to  a  grand  military  dinner  at  the  Duke  of 

Y 's ;  observing,  at  the  same  time,  that,  in  the 

present  state  of  the  family,  one  or  two  friends  to  a 
quiet  family  dinner  was  as  much  as  they  should  be 
up  to. 


CHAPTER  XXIIL 

"  I  but  purpose  to  embark  with  thee 
On  the  smooth  surface  of  a  summer  sea, 
While  gentle  zephyrs  play  in  prosp'rous  gales, 
And  Fortune's  favour  fills  the  swelling  sails." 

Henry  and  Emma. 

How  long  these  voluntary  sacrifices  to  duty  and  pro- 
priety might  have  been  made  it  would  not  be  difficult 
to  guess  ;  but  Lady  Juliana's  approaching  confinement 
rendered  her  seclusion  more  and  more  a  matter  of 
necessity ;  and  shortly  after  these  events  took  place 
she  presented  her  delighted  husband  with  a  son. 
Henry  lost  no  time  in  announcing  the  birth  of  his 
child  to  General  Cameron,  and  at  the  same  time 
requesting  he  would  stand  godfather,  and  give  his 
name  to  the  child.     The  answer  was  as  follows  : — 

"  HoRT  Lodge,  Berks. 

"Dear  Henry — By  this  time  twelvemonth  I  hope 
it  will  be  my  turn  to  communicate  to  you  a  similar 
event  in  my  family  to  that  which  your  letter  an- 
nounces to  me.  As  a  preliminary  step,  I  am  just 
about  to  march  into  quarters  for  life  with  a  young 
woman,  daughter  to  my  steward.      She  is  healthy, 


MARRIAGE.  249 

good-humoured,  and  of  course  vulgar,  since  she  is  no 
connoisseur  in  china,  and  never  spoke  to  a  pug-dog  in 
her  life. 

"  Your  allowance  will  be  remitted  regularly  from 
my  Banker  until  the  day  of  my  death ;  you  will  then 
succeed  to  ten  thousand  pounds,  secured  to  your 
children,  which  is  all  you  have  to  expect  from  me. 
If,  after  this,  you  think  it  worth  your  while,  you  are 
very  welcome  to  give  your  son  the  name  of  yours 
faithfully,  WiLLiAM  Cajieron." 

Henry's  consternation  at  the  contents  of  this  epistle 
was  almost  equalled  by  JuUana's  indignation.  "  The 
daughter  of  a  steward  ! — Heavens  !  it  made  her  sick 
to  think  of  it.  It  was  too  shocldng  !  The  man  ought 
to  be  shut  up.  Henry  ought  to  prevent  him  from 
disgracing  his  connexions  in  such  a  manner.  There 
ought  to  be  a  law  against  old  men  marrying " 

"And  young  ones  too,"  groaned  Douglas,  as  he 
thought  of  the  debts  he  had  contracted  on  the  faith 
and  credit  of  being  the  General's  heir ;  for  with  all 
the  sanguine  presumption  of  thoughtless  j'outh  and 
buoyant  spirits,  Henry  had  no  sooner  found  his  fault 
forgiven  than  he  immediately  fancied  it  forgotten, 
and  himself  completely  restored  to  favour.  His 
friends  and  the  world  were  of  the  same  opinion  ;  and, 
as  the  future  possessor  of  immense  wealth,  he  found 
nothing  so  easy  as  to  borrow  money  and  contract 
debts,  which  he  now  saw  the  impossibility  of  ever 
discharging.      Still  he  flattered  himself  the  General 


250  MARRIAGE. 

might  only  mean  to  frighten  him;  or  he  might  re- 
lent; or  the  marriage  might  go  off;  or  he  might  not 
have  any  children ;  and,  with  these  mighty  hopes, 
things  went  on  as  usual  for  some  time  longer.  Lady 
Juhana,  who,  to  do  her  justice,  was  not  of  a  more 
desponding  character  than  her  husband,  had  also  her 
stock  of  hopes  and  expectations  always  ready  to  act 
upon.  She  was  quite  sure  that  if  papa  ever  came  to 
his  senses  (for  he  had  remained  in  a  state  of  stupe- 
faction since  the  apoplectic  stroke)  he  would  forgive 
her,  and  take  her  to  live  with  him,  now  that  that  vile 
Lady  Lindore  was  gone,  or,  if  he  should  never  recover, 
she  was  equally  sure  of  benefiting  by  his  death ;  for 
though  he  had  said  he  was  not  to  leave  her  a  shilling, 
she  did  not  believe  it.  She  was  sure  papa  would 
never  do  anything  so  cruel;  and  at  any  rate,  if  he 
did,  Lindore  was  so  generous,  he  would  do  something 
very  handsome  for  ner ;  and  so  fortL 

At  length  the  bubbles  burst.  The  same  paper  that 
stated  the  marriage  of  Genei'al  William  Cameron  to 
Judith  Broadcast,  Spinster,  announced,  in  all  the 
dignity  of  woe,  the  death  of  that  most  revered  noble- 
man and  eminent  statesman,  Augustus,  Earl  of  Court- 
land. 

In  weak  minds  it  has  generally  been  remarked 
that  no  medium  can  be  maintained.  Where  hope 
holds  her  dominion  she  is  too  buoyant  to  be  accom- 
panied by  her  anchor ;  and  between  her  and  despair 
there  are  no  gradations.  Desperate  indeed  now 
became  the  condition  of  the  misjudging  pair.     Lady 


MAr^RIAGE.  251 

Juliana's  name  was  not  even  mentioned  in  her 
father's  will,  and  the  General's  marriage  rendered  his 
settlements  no  longer  a  secret.  In  all  the  horrors 
of  desperation,  Henry  now  found  himself  daily  beset 
by  creditors  of  every  description.  At  length  the  fatal 
blow  came.  Horses,  carriages,  everything  they  could 
call  their  own,  were  seized.  The  term  for  which  they 
held  the  house  was  expired,  and  they  found  them- 
selves on  the  point  of  being  turned  into  the  street, 
when  Lady  Juliana,  who  had  been  for  two  days,  as 
her  woman  expressed  it,  out  of  one  fit  into  another, 
suddenly  recovered  strength  to  signify  her  desire  of 
being  conveyed  to  her  brother's  house.  A  hackney 
coach  was  procured,  into  which  the  hapless  victim  of 
her  own  follies  was  carried.  Shuddering  with  disgust, 
and  accompanied  by  her  children  and  their  attendants, 
she  was  set  down  at  the  noble  mansion  from  which 
she  had  fled  two  years  before. 

Her  brother,  whom  she  fortunately  found  at  home, 
lolling  upon  a  sofa  Avith  a  new  novel  in  his  hand, 
received  her  without  any  marks  of  surprise  ;  said  those 
things  happened  every  day ;  hoped  Captain  Douglas 
would  contrive  to  get  himself  extricated  from  this 
slight  embarrassment ;  and  informed  his  sister  that 
she  was  welcome  to  occupy  her  old  apartments,  which 
had  been  lately  fitted  up  for  Lady  Lindore.  Then 
ringing  the  bell,  he  desired  the  housekeeper  might 
shoAV  Lady  Juliana  upstairs,  and  put  the  children  in 
the  nursery ;  mentioned  that  he  generalh^  dined  at 
eight  o'clock  ;  and,  nodding  to  his  sister  as  she  quitted 


252  MAPtPJACxE. 

the  room,  returned  to  his  book,  as  if  nothing  had 
occurred  to  disturb  him  from  it. 

In  ten  minutes  after  her  entrance  into  Courtland 
house  Lady  Juliana  had  made  greater  advances  in  re- 
ligion and  philosophy  than  she  had  done  in  the  whole 
nineteen  years  of  her  life  :  for  she  not  only  perceived 
that  "out  of  evil  cometh  good,"  but  was  perfectly 
ready  to  admit  that  "  all  is  for  the  best,"  and  that 
"whatever  is,  is  right." 

"  How  lucky  is  it  for  me,"  exclaimed  she  to  herself, 
as  she  surveyed  the  splendid  suite  of  apartments  that 
were  destined  for  her  accommodation — "how  very 
fortunate  that  things  have  turned  out  as  they  have 
done ;  that  Lady  Lindore  should  have  run  off,  and 
that  the  General's  marriage  should  have  taken  place 
just  at  the  time  of  poor  papa's  death  " — and,  in  short, 
Lady  Juliana  set  no  bounds  to  her  self-gratulations  on 
the  happy  turn  of  affairs  which  had  brought  about 
this  change  in  her  situatioru 

To  a  heart  not  Avholly  devoid  of  feeling,  and  a 
mind  capable  of  anything  like  reflection,  the  desolate 
appearance  of  this  magnificent  mansion  would  have 
excited  emotions  of  a  very  different  nature.  The 
apartments  of  the  late  Earl,  with  their  wide  extended 
doors  and  windows,  sheeted  furniture,  and  air  of 
dreary  order,  exhibited  that  waste  and  chilling  aspect 
which  marks  the  chambers  of  death ;  and  eA^en  Lady 
Juliana  shuddered,  she  knew  not  why,  as  she  passed 
through  theiru 

Those  of  Lady  Lindore  presented  a  picture  not  less 


MARRIAGE.  253 

striking,  could  her  thoughtless  successor  have  profited 
by  the  lesson  they  offered.  Here  was  all  that  the 
most  capricious  fancy,  the  most  boundless  extrava- 
gance, the  most  refined  luxury,  could  wish  for  or  sug- 
gest. The  bedchamber,  dressing-room,  and  boudoir 
were  each  fitted  up  in  a  style  that  seemed  rather 
suited  for  the  pleasures  of  an  Eastern  sultana  or 
Grecian  courtesan  than  for  the  domestic  comfort  of 
a  British  matron. 

"I  wonder  how  Lady  Lindore  could  find  in  her 
heart  to  leave  this  delicious  boudoir,"  observed  Lady 
Juliana  to  the  old  housekeeper. 

"I  rather  wonder,  my  Lad}',  how  she  could  find 
in  her  heart  to  leave  these  pretty  babies,"  returned 
the  good  woman,  as  a  little  boy  came  running  into 
the  room,  calling,  "Mamma,  mamma  !"  Lady  Juliana 
had  nothing  to  say  to  children  beyond  a  "  How  d'ye 
do,  love?"  and  the  child,  after  regarding  her  for  a 
moment,  with  a  look  of  disappointment,  ran  away  back 
to  his  nursery. 

When  Lady  Juliana  had  fairly  settled  herself  in 
her  new  apartments,  and  the  tumult  of  delight  began 
to  subside,  it  occurred  to  her  that  something  must  be 
done  for  poor  Harrj^,  whom  she  had  left  in  the  hands 
of  a  brother  officer,  in  a  state  little  short  of  distraction. 
She  accordingly  went  in  search  of  her  brother,  to  re- 
quest his  advice  and  assistance,  and  found  him,  it  be- 
ing nearly  dark,  preparing  to  set  out  on  his  morning's 
ride.  Upon  hearing  the  situation  of  his  brother-in-law 
lie  declared  himself  ready  to  assist  Mr.  Douglas  as  far 


254  MARRIAGE. 

as  he  was  able ;  but  he  had  just  learned  from  his 
people  of  business  that  his  own  affairs  were  somewhat 
involved.  The  late  Earl  had  expended  enormous 
sums  on  political  purposes ;  Lady  Lindore  had  run 
through  a  prodigious  deal  of  money,  he  believed ;  and 
he  himself  had  some  debts,  amounting,  he  was  told, 
to  seventy  thousand  pounds.  Lady  Juliana  was  all 
aghast  at  this  information,  which  was  delivered  with 
the  most  perfect  nonchalance  by  the  Earl,  while  he 
amused  himself  with  his  Nev/'foundland  dog.  Unable 
to  conceal  her  disappointment  at  these  effects  of  her 
brother's  "  liberality  and  generosity,"  Lady  Juliana 
burst  into  tears. 

The  Earl's  sensibility  was  akin  to  his  generosity; 
he  gave  money  (or  rather  allowed  it  to  be  taken) 
freely  when  he  had  it,  from  indolence  and  easiness  of 
temper ;  he  hated  the  sight  of  distress  in  any  in- 
dividual, because  it  occasioned  trouble,  and  was,  in 
short,  a  hore.  He  therefore  made  haste  to  relieve  his 
sister's  alarm  by  assuring  her  that  these  were  mere 
trifles ;  that,  as  for  Douglas's  affairs,  he  would  order 
his  agent  to  an^ange  everything  in  his  name ;  hoped 
to  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  him  at  dinner ;  recom- 
mended to  his  sister  to  have  some  pheasant  pies  for 
luncheon ;  and,  calling  Carlo,  set  out  upon  his  ride. 

However  much  Lady  Juliana  had  felt  mortified 
and  disappointed  at  learning  the  state  of  her  brother's 
finances,  she  began,  by  degrees,  to  extract  the  greatest 
consolation  from  the  comparative  insignificance  of  her 
own  debts  to  those  of  the  Earl ;  and  accordingly,  in 


MARKIAGE.  255 

high  spirits  at  this  newly  discovered  and  judicious 
source  of  comfort,  she  despatched  the  following  note 
to  her  husband  : — 

"Dearest  Henry — I  have  been  received  in  the 
kindest  manner  imaginable  by  Frederick,  and  have 
been  put  in  possession  of  my  old  apartments,  which 
are  so  much  altered,  I  should  never  have  known  them. 
They  were  furnished  by  Lady  Lindore,  who  really  has 
a  diWne  taste.  I  long  to  show  you  all  the  delights  of 
this  abode.  Frederick  desired  me  to  say  that  he  ex- 
pects to  see  you  here  at  dinner,  and  that  he  will  take 
charge  of  paying  all  our  bills  whenever  he  gets  money. 
Only  think  of  his  owing  a  hundred  thousand  pounds, 
besides  all  papa's  and  Lady  Lindore's  debts  !  I  assure 
you  I  was  almost  ashamed  to  tell  him  of  ours,  they 
sounded  so  trifling ;  but  it  is  quite  a  relief  to  find 
other  people  so  much  worse.  Indeed,  I  always  thought 
it  quite  natural  for  us  to  run  in  debt,  considering  that 
we  had  no  money  to  pay  anything,  while  Courtland, 
who  is  as  rich  as  a  Jew,  is  so  hampered.  I  shall 
expect  you  at  eight,  until  when,  adieu,  mio  caro, 

"  Your  Julie. 

"I  am  quite  wretched  about  you." 

This  tender  and  consolatory  billet  Henry  had  not 
the  satisfaction  of  receiving,  having  been  arrested, 
shortly  after  his  wife's  departure,  at  the  suit  of 
Mr.  Shagg,  for  the  sum  of  two  thousand  some  odd 
hundreds,  for  carriages  jobbed,  bought,  exchanged, 
repaired,  returned,  etc. 


256  MAKRIAGE. 

Lady  Juliana's  horror  and  dismay  at  the  news  of 
her  husband's  arrest  were  excessive.  Her  only  ideas 
of  confinement  were  taken  from  those  pictures  of  the 
Bastile  and  Inquisition  that  she  had  read  so  much 
of  in  French  and  German  novels ;  and  the  idea  of  a 
prison  was  indissolubly  united  in  her  mind  with  bread 
and  water,  chains  and  straw,  dungeons  and  dai'kness. 
Callous  and  selfish,  therefore,  as  she  might  be,  she 
was  not  yet  so  wholly  void  of  all  natural  feeling  as  to 
think  with  indifi'erence  of  the  man  she  had  once  fondly 
loved  reduced  to  such  a  pitiable  condition. 

Almost  frantic  at  the  phantom  of  her  own  creation, 
she  flew  to  her  brother's  apartment,  and,  in  the  wildesi 
and  most  incoherent  manner,  besought  him  to  rescue 
her  poor  Henry  from  chains  and  a  dungeon. 

With  some  difficulty  Lord  Courtland  at  length 
apprehended  the  extent  of  his  brother-in-law's  mis- 
fortune ;  and,  with  his  usual  sang  froid,  smiled  at  his 
sister's  simplicity,  assured  her  the  King's  Bench  was 
the  pleasantest  place  in  the  world ;  that  some  of  his 
own  most  particular  friends  were  there,  who  gave 
capital  dinners,  and  led  the  most  desirable  lives  ima- 
ginable. 

"  And  will  he  really  not  be  fed  on  bread  and  water, 
and  wear  chains,  and  sleep  upon  straw?"  asked  the 
tender  wife  in  the  utmost  surprise  and  delight  "  Oh, 
then,  he  is  not  so  much  to  be  pitied,  though  I  daresay 
he  would  rather  get  out  of  prison  too." 

The  Earl  promised  to  obtain  his  release  the  follow- 
ing day,  and  Lady  Juliana  returned  to  her  toilet  with 


MARRIAGE.  257 

a  much  higher  opinion  of  prisons  than  she  had  ever 
entertained  before. 

Lord  Court! and,  for  once  in  his  life,  was  punctual 
to  his  promise ;  and  even  interested  himself  so 
thoroughly  in  Douglas's  affairs,  though  without  in- 
quiring into  any  particulars,  as  to  take  upon  himself 
the  discharge  of  his  debts,  and  to  procure  leave  for 
hiin  to  exchange  into  a  regiment  of  the  line,  then 
under  orders  for  India. 

Upon  hearing  of  this  arrangement  Lady  Juliana's 
grief  and  despair,  as  usual,  set  all  reason  at  defiance. 
She  would  not  suffer  her  dear,  dear  Harry  to  leave 
her.  She  knew  she  could  not  live  without  him ;  she 
was  sure  she  should  die ;  and  Harry  would  be  sea- 
sick, and  grow  so  yellow  and  so  ugly  that  when  he 
came  back  she  should  never  have  any  comfort  in  him 
again. 

Henry,  who  had  never  doubted  her  readiness  to 
accompany  him,  immediately  hastened  to  assuage  her 
anguish  by  assuring  her  that  it  had  always  been  his 
intention  to  take  her  along  with  him. 

That  was  worse  and  worse  :  she  wondered  how  he 
could  be  so  barbarous  and  absurd  as  to  think  of  her 
leaving  all  her  friends  and  going  to  live  amongst 
savages.  She  had  done  a  great  deal  in  living  so  long 
contentedly  wath  him  in  Scotland ;  but  she  never 
could  nor  would  make  such  another  sacrifice.  Be- 
sides, she  was  sure  poor  Courtland  could  not  do  with- 
out her ;  she  knew  he  never  would  marry  again  ;  and 
who  would  take  care  of  his  dear  children,  and  educate 

VOL.  I.  S  M. 


258  MARRIAGE. 

them  properly,  if  she  did  not  1  It  would  be  too  un- 
grateful to  desert  Frederick,  after  all  he  had  done  for 
them. 

The  pride  of  the  man,  as  much  as  the  affection  of 
the  husband,  was  irritated  by  this  resistance  to  his 
will ;  and  a  violent  scene  of  reproach  and  recrimina- 
tiou  terminated  in  an  eternal  farewelL 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

•*  In  age,  in  infancy,  from  others'  aid 
Is  all  our  hope  ;  to  teach  us  to  be  kind, 
That  nature's  first,  last  lesson." 

YOUNO. 

The  neglected  daughter  of  I.ady  Juliana  Douglas 
experienced  all  the  advantages  naturally  to  be  ex- 
pected from  her  change  of  situation.  Her  watchful 
aunt  superintended  the  years  of  her  infancy,  and  all 
that  a  tender  and  judicious  mother  could  do — all  that 
most  mothers  thinl;  they  do— she  performed.  Mrs. 
Douglas,  though  not  a  woman  either  of  words  or 
systems,  possessed  a  reflecting  mind,  and  a  heart 
warm  with  benevolence  towards  everything  that  had 
a  being ;  and  all  the  best  feelings  of  her  nature  were 
excited  by  the  little  outcast  thus  abandoned  by  her 
unnatural  parent.  As  she  pressed  the  unconscious 
babe  to  her  bosom  she  thought  how  blest  she  should 
have  been  had  a  child  of  her  own  thus  filled  her 
arms ;  but  the  reflection  called  forth  no  selfish  mur 
murs  from  her  chastened  spirit.  While  the  tear  of 
soft  regret  trembled  in  her  eye,  that  eye  was  j'et 
raised  in  gratitude  to  Heaven  for  having  called  forth 
those  delightful  afi"ections  which  might  otherwise 
have  slumbered  in  her  heart. 


2G0  MARRIAGE, 

Mrs.  Douglas  had  read  much,  and  reflected  more, 
and  manj'  faultless  theories  of  education  had  floated 
in  her  mind.  But  her  good  sense  soon  discovered 
how  unavailing  all  theories  were  whose  foundations 
rested  ujion  the  inferred  wisdom  of  the  teacher,  and 
how  intricate  and  unwieldy  must  be  the  machinery 
for  the  human  mind  where  the  human  hand  alone  is 
to  guide  and  uphold  it.  To  engraft  into  her  infant 
soul  the  purest  principles  of  religion  was  therefore 
the  chief  aim  of  Mary's  preceptress.  The  fear  of  God 
was  the  only  restraint  imposed  upon  her  dawning 
intellect;  and  from  the  Bible  alone  was  she  taught 
the  duties  of  moralitj^ — not  in  the  form  of  a  dry  code 
of  laws,  to  be  read  with  a  solemn  face  on  Sundays,  or 
learned  with  weeping  ejes  as  a  week-day  task — but 
adapted  to  her  youthful  capacity  by  judicious  illus- 
tration, and  familiarised  to  her  taste  by  hearing  its 
stories  and  precepts  from  the  lips  she  best  loved. 
Mrs.  Douglas  was  the  friend  and  confidant  of  her 
pupil :  to  her  all  her  hopes  and  fears,  wishes  and 
dreads  were  confided ;  and  the  first  eff"ort  of  her 
reason  was  the  discovery  that  to  please  her  aunt  she 
must  study  to  please  her  Maker. 

"L'inutilite  de  la  vie  des  femmes  est  la  premier 
source  de  leurs  desordres." 

Mrs.  Douglas  was  fully  convinced  of  the  truth  of 
this  observation,  and  that  the  mere  selfish  cares  and 
vulgar  bustle  of  life  are  not  sufficient  to  satisfy  the 
immortal  soul,  however  they  may  serve  to  engross  it. 

A  portion  of  Mark's  time  was  therefore  devoted  to 


MAliRIAGE.  261 

the  daily  practice  of  the  great  duties  of  life ;  in  admin- 
istering in  some  shape  or  other  to  the  wants  and  mis- 
fortunes of  her  fellow- creatures,  without  requiring 
from  them  that  their  virtue  should  have  been  imma- 
culate, or  expecting  that  their  gratitude  should  be 
everlasting, 

"It  is  better,"  thought  ]\Irs.  Douglas,  "that  we 
should  sometimes  be  deceived  by  others  than  that  we 
should  learn  to  deceive  ourselves;  and  the  charity 
and  goodwill  that  is  suffered  to  lie  dormant,  or  feed 
itself  on  speculative  acts  of  beneficence,  for  want  of 
proper  objects  to  call  it  into  use,  will  soon  become 
the  corroding  rust  that  will  destroy  the  best  feelings 
of  our  nature." 

But  although  Mary  strenuously  applied  herself  to 
the  uses  of  life,  its  embellishments  were  by  no  means 
neglected.  She  was  happily  endowed  by  nature ;  and, 
under  the  judicious  management  of  her  aunt,  made 
rapid  though  unostentatious  progress  in  the  improve- 
ment of  the  talents  committed  to  her  care.  Without 
having  been  blessed  Avith  the  advantages  of  a  dancinsc- 
master,  her  step  was  light,  and  her  motions  free  and 
graceful ;  and  if  her  aunt  had  not  been  able  to  impart 
to  her  the  favourite  graces  of  the  most  fashionable 
singer  of  the  day,  neither  had  she  thwarted  the  efforts 
of  her  own  natural  taste  in  forming  a  style  full  of 
simplicity  and  feeling.  In  the  modern  languages  she 
was  perfectly  skilled  ;  and  if  her  drawings  wanted  the 
enlivening  touches  of  the  master  to  give  them  effect, 
as  an  atonement  they  displayed  a  perfect  knowledge 


262  Marriage. 

of  tlie  rules  of  perspective  and  the  study  of  the 
bust. 

All  this  was,  however,  mere  leather  and  prunella 
to  the  ladies  of  Glenfern ;  and  many  were  the  cogita- 
tions and  consultations  that  took  j^lace  on  the  subject 
of  Mary's  mismanagement.  According  to  their  ideas 
there  could  be  but  one  good  system  of  education  ;  and 
that  was  the  one  that  had  been  pursued  with  them, 
and  through  them  transmitted  to  their  nieces. 

To  attend  the  parish  church  and  remember  the 
text;  to  observe  who  was  there  and  who  was  not 
there ;  and  to  wind  up  the  evening  with  a  sermon 
stuttered  and  stammered  through  by  one  of  the  girls 
(the  tvorst  reader  always  joiously  selected,  for  the 
jaiipfise  of  improving  their  reading),  and  particularly 
N<ldi^'ssed  to  the  Laird,  openly  and  avowedly  snoring 
in  nis  arm-chair,  though  at  every  pause  starting  up 
with  a  peevish  "  Weel  1" — this  was  the  sum  total  of 
their  religious  duties.  Their  moral  virtues  were  much 
upon  the  same  scale  ;  to  knit  stockings,  scold  servants, 
cement  china,  trim  bonnets,  lecture  the  poor,  and 
look  up  to  Lady  Maclaughlan,  comprised  nearly  their 
whole  code.  But  these  were  the  virtues  of  ripened 
years  and  enlarged  understandings — what  their  pupils 
might  hope  to  arrive  at,  but  could  not  presume  to 
medille  witL  Their  merits  consisted  in  being  com- 
pelled to  sew  certain  large  portions  of  white-work ; 
leariiing  to  read  and  write  in  the  worst  manner ; 
occasionally  wearing  a  collar,  and  learning  the  notes  on 
the  spinnet     These  acquirements,  accompanied  with 


MARRIAGE.  263 

a  great  deal  of  lecturing  and  fault-finding,  sufficed  for 
the  first  fifteen  years ;  when  the  two  next,  passed  at 
a  provincial  boarding-school,  were  supposed  to  impart 
every  graceful  accomplishment  to  which  women  could 
attain. 

Mrs.  Douglas's  method  of  conveying  instruction,  it 
may  easily  be  imagined,  did  not  square  with  their 
ideas  on  that  subject.  They  did  nothing  themselves 
without  a  bustle,  and  to  do  a  thing  quietly  was  to 
them  the  same  as  not  doing  it  at  all— it  could  not  be 
done,  for  nobody  had  ever  heard  of  it.  In  short,  like 
many  other  worthy  people,  their  ears  were  their  only 
organs  of  intelligence.  They  believed  everything  they 
were  told ;  but  unless  they  were  told,  they  believed 
nothing.  They  had  never  heard  Mrs.  Douglas  expati- 
ate on  the  importance  of  the  trust  reposed  in  her,  or 
enlarge  on  the  difficulties  of  female  education ;  ergo, 
Mrs.  Douglas  could  have  no  idea  of  the  nature  (>f  the 
duties  she  had  undertaken. 

Their  visits  to  Lochmarlie  only  served  to  confirm 
the  fact.  Miss  Jacky  deponed  that  during  the  month 
she  was  there  she  never  could  discover  when  or  how 
it  was  that  Mary  got  her  lessons ;  luckily  the  child 
was  quick,  and  had  contrived,  poor  thing,  to  pick  up 
things  wonderfull}',  nobody  knew  how,  for  it  Avas  really 
astonishing  to  see  how  little  pains  were  bestowed  upon 
her;  and  the  worst  of  it  was,  that  she  seemeil  to  do 
just  as  she  liked,  for  nobody  ever  heard  her  reproved, 
and  everybody  knew  that  joung  people  never  could 
have  enough  said  to  them.     All  this  differed  widely 


264  MARRIAGE. 

from  the  eclat  of  their  system,  aud  could  not  fail  of 
causing  great  disquiet  to  the  sisters. 

"  I  declare  I'm  quite  confounded  at  all  this  ! "  said 
Miss  Grizzy,  at  the  conclusion  of  Miss  Jacky's  com- 
munication. "It  really  appears  as  if  Mary,  poor 
thing,  was  getting  no  education  at  all ;  and  yet  she 
can  do  things,  too.  I  can't  understand  it;  and  it's 
very  odd  in  Mrs.  Douglas  to  allow  her  to  be  so  much 
neglected,  for  certainly  Mary's  constantly  with  herself  ; 
which,  to  be  sure,  shows  that  she  is  very  much  spoilt ; 
for  although  our  girls  are  as  fond  of  us  as  I  am  sure 
any  creatures  can  be,  yet,  at  the  same  time,  they  are 
always  very  glad — which  is  quite  natural — to  run 
away  from  us." 

"  I  think  it's  high  time  Mary  had  done  something 
fit  to  be  seen,"  said  Miss  Nicky;  "she  is  now  sixteen 
past." 

"  Most  girls  of  Mary's  time  of  life  that  ever  /  had 
anything  to  do  with,"  replied  Jacky,  with  a  certain 
wave  of  the  head,  peculiar  to  sensible  women,  "had 
something  to  show  before  her  age.  Bella  had  worked 
the  globe  long  before  she  was  sixteen ;  and  Baby  did 
her  filigree  tea-caddy  the  first  quarter  she  was  at 
Miss  Macgowk's,"  glancing  with  triumph  from  the  one 
which  hung  over  the  mantelpiece,  to  the  other  which 
stood  on  the  tea-table,  shrouded  in  a  green  bag. 

"And,  to  be  sure,"  rejoined  Grizzy,  "although 
Betsy's  screen  did  cost  a  great  deal  of  money — that 
can't  be  denied  ;  and  her  father  certainly  grudged  it 
very  much  at  the  time — there's  no  doubt  of  that ;  yet 


MARRIAGE.  265 

certainly  it  does  her  the  greatest  credit,  and  it  is  a 
great  satisfaction  to  us  all  to  have  these  things  to  shoAV. 
I  am  sure  nobody  would  ever  think  that  ass  was  made 
of  crape,  and  how  naturally  it  seems  to  be  eating  the 
beautiful  chenille  thistle  !  I  declare,  I  think  the  ass 
is  as  like  an  ass  as  anything  can  be  ! " 

"And  as  to  Mary's  drawing,"  continued  the  nar- 
rator of  her  deficiencies,  "  there  is  not  one  of  them  fit 
for  framing :  mere  scratches  with  a  chalk  pencil — 
what  any  child  might  do." 

"And  to  think,"  said  Nicky,  with  indignation, 
"how  little  Mrs.  Douglas  seemed  to  think  of  the 
handsome  coloured  views  the  girls  did  at  Miss  Mac- 
gowk's." 

"  All  our  girls  have  the  greatest  genius  for  drawing," 
observed  Grizzy ;  "  there  can  be  no  doubt  of  that ; 
but  it's  a  thousand  pities,  I'm  sure,  tliat  none  of  them 
seem  to  like  it.  To  be  sure  they  say— what  I  dare 
say  is  very  true — that  they  can't  get  such  good  paper 
as  they  got  at  Miss  Macgowk's  ;  but  they  have  showed 
that  they  can  do,  for  their  drawings  are  quite  astonish- 
ing. Somebod}-  lately  took  them  to  be  Mr.  Touchup's 
own  doing ;  and  I'm  sure  there  couldn't  be  a  greater 
compliment  than  that !  I  represented  all. that  to  Mrs. 
Douglas,  and  urged  her  very  strongly  to  give  Mary  the 
benefit  of  at  least  a  quarter  of  Miss  ^lacgowk's,  were 
it  only  for  the  sake  of  her  carriage ;  or,  at  least,  to 
make  her  wear  our  collar." 

This  was  the  tenderest  of  all  themes,  and  bursts  of 
sorrowful  exclamations  ensued.     The  collar  had  lonj? 


266  MARRIAGE. 

been  a  galling  yoke  upon  their  minds ;  its  iron  had 
entered  into  their  very  souls ;  for  it  was  a  collar 
presented  to  the  family  of  Glenfern  by  the  wisest, 
virtuousest,  best  of  women  and  of  grandmothers,  the 
the  good  Lady  Girnachgowl ;  and  had  been  worn  in 
regular  rotation  by  every  female  of  the  family  till 
now  that  Mrs.  Douglas  positively  refused  to  subject 
Mary's  pliant  form  to  its  thraldom.  Even  the  Laird, 
albeit  no  connoisseur  in  any  shapes  save  those  of  his 
kine,  was  of  opinion  that  since  the  thing  was  in  the 
house  it  was  a  pity  it  should  be  lost.  Not  Venus's 
girdle  even  was  supposed  to  confer  greater  charms 
than  the  Girnachgowl  collar. 

"It's  really  most  distressing  !"  said  Miss  Grizzy  to 
her  friend  Lady  Maclaughlan. 

"  Mary's  back  won't  be  worth  a  farthing ;  and  we 
have  always  been  quite  famous  for  our  backs." 

"Humph  ! — that's  the  reason  people  are  always  so 
glad  to  see  them,  child." 

With  regard  to  Mary's  looks,  opinions  were  not  so 
decided.  Mrs.  Douglas  thought  her,  what  she  was, 
an  elegant,  interesting-looking  girl.  The  Laird,  as  he 
peered  at  her  over  his  spectacles,  pronounced  her  to 
be  but  a  shilpit  thing,  though  weel  eneugh,  consider- 
ing the  ne'er-do-weels  that  were  aught  her.  Miss 
Jacky  opined  that  she  would  have  been  quite  a 
different  creature  had  she  been  brought  up  like  any 
other  girl.  Miss  Grizzy  did  not  know  what  to  think  ; 
she  certainly  was  pretty — nobody  could  dispute  that. 
At  the  same  time,  many  people  would  prefer  Bella's 


MARRIAGE.  267 

looks ;  and  Baby  was  certainly  uncommonly  comely. 
Miss  Nicky  thought  it  was  no  Avonder  she  looked  pale 
sometimes.  She  never  supped  her  broth  in  a  wise- 
like way  at  dinner ;  and  it  was  a  shame  to  hear  of  a 
girl  of  Mary's  age  being  set  up  with  tea  to  her  break- 
fast, and  wearing  white  petticoats  in  winter — and 
such  roads,  too  ! 

Lady  Maclaughlan  iDronounced  (and  that  was  next 
to  a  special  revelation)  that  the  girl  would  be  hand- 
some when  she  was  forty,  not  a  day  sooner ;  and  she 
would  be  clever,  for  her  mother  was  a  fool;  and 
foolish  mothers  had  always  wise  children,  and  vice 
versa,  "and  your  mother  was  a  very  clever  woman, 
girls — humph  !  " 

Thus  passed  the  earl}^  years  of  the  almost  forgotten 
twin ;  blest  in  the  warm  affection  and  mild  authority 
of  her  more  than  mother.  Sometimes  Mrs.  Douglas 
half  formed  the  wish  that  her  beloved  pupil  should 
mix  in  society  and  become  known  to  the  Avorld ;  but 
when  she  reflected  on  the  dangers  of  that  Avorld,  and 
on  the  little  solid  happiness  its  pleasures  afford,  she 
repressed  the  wish,  and  only  prayed  she  might  be 
allowed  to  rest  secure  in  the  simple  pleasures  she 
then  enjoyed.  "Happiness  is  not  a  plant  of  this 
earth,"  said  she  to  herself  with  a  sigh ;  "  but  God 
gives  peace  and  tranquillity  to  the  virtuous  in  all 
situations,  and  under  every  trial.  Let  me  then  strive 
to  make  Mary  virtuous,  and  leave  the  rest  to  Him 
who  alone  knoweth  what  is  good  for  us ! " 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

**  Th'  immortal  line  in  sure  succession  reigns, 
The  fortune  of  the  family  remains, 
And  grandsiies'  grandsons  the  long  list  contains." 

Dryden's  Virgil. 

"  We  are  such  stuff 
As  dreams  are  made  on  ;  and  our  little  life 
Is  rounded  with  a  sleep." 

Tempest. 

But  Mary's  back  and  Mary's  complexion  now  ceased 
to  be  the  first  objects  of  interest  at  Glenfern ;  for,  to 
the  inexpressible  delight  and  amazement  of  the  sisters, 
Mrs,  Douglas,  after  due  warning,  became  the  mother 
of  a  son.  How  this  event  had  been  brought  about 
without  the  intervention  of  Lady  Maclaughlan  was 
past  the  powers  of  Miss  Grizzy's  comprehension.  To 
the  last  moment  they  had  been  sceptical,  for  Lady 
Maclaughlan  had  shook  her  head  and  humphed  when- 
ever the  subject  was  mentioned.  For  several  months 
they  had  therefore  vibrated  between  their  own  san- 
guine hopes  and  their  oracle's  disheartening  doubts ; 
and  even  when  the  truth  Avas  manifest,  a  sort  of  vague 
tremor  took  possession  of  their  mind  as  to  what  Lady 
Maclaughlan  Avould  think  of  it. 

"  I  declare  I  don't  very  well  know  how  to  announce 


MARRIAGE.  269 

this  happy  event  to  Lady  Maclaughlan,"  saal  Miss 
Grizzy,  as  she  sat  in  a  ruminating  posture,  with  her 
pen  in  her  hand  ;  "  it  will  give  her  the  greatest  plea- 
sure, I  know  that ;  she  has  such  a  regard  for  our 
family,  she  would  go  any  lengths  for  us.  At  the 
same  time,  everybody  must  be  sensible  it  is  a  delicate 
matter  to  tell  a  person  of  Lady  Maclaughlan's  skill 
they  have  been  mistaken.  I'm  sure  I  don't  know  how 
she  may  take  it :  and  yet  she  can't  suppose  it  will 
make  any  difference  in  our  sentiments  for  her.  She 
must  be  sensible  we  have  all  the  greatest  respect  for 
liCT  opinion." 

"The  wisest  people  are  sometimes  mistaken,"  ob- 
served Miss  Jacky. 

"I'm  sure,  Jacky,  that's  very  true,"  said  Grizzy, 
brightening  up  at  the  brilliancy  of  this  remark. 

"And  it's  better  she  should  have  been  mistaken 
than  Mrs.  Douglas,"  followed  up  Miss  Nicky. 

"I  declare,  Nicky,  you  are  perfectly  right;  and  I 
shall  just  say  so  at  once  to  Lady  Maclaughlan." 

The  epistle  was  forthwith  commenced  by  the  en- 
lightened Grizelda.  Miss  Joan  applied  herself  to  the 
study  of  "  The  Whole  Duty  of  Man,"  which  she  was 
determined  to  make  herself  mistress  of  for  the  benefit 
of  her  grand-nephew;  and  Miss  Nicliolas  fell  to 
reckoning  all  who  could,  would,  or  should  be  at  the 
christening,  that  she  might  calculate  upon  the  quan- 
tity of  drcaming-hread  that  would  be  required.  The 
younger  ladies  were  busily  engaged  in  divers  and 
sundry  disputes  regarding  the  right  to  succession  to  a 


270  MAERIAGE. 

once-white  lutestring  negligee  of  their  mother's,  which 
three  of  them  had  laid  their  accounts  with  figuring 
in  at  the  approaching  celebration.  The  old  gentleman 
was  the  only  one  in  the  family  who  took  the  least  of 
the  general  happiness.  He  had  got  into  a  habit  of 
being  fretted  about  everything  that  happened,  and  he 
could  not  entirely  divest  himself  of  it  even  upon  this 
occasion.  His  parsimonious  turns,  too,  had  consider- 
ably increased ;  and  his  only  criterion  of  judging  of 
anything  was  according  to  what  it  would  bring. 

"  Sorra  tak  me  if  ane  wadnae  think,  to  hear  ye, 
this  was  the  first  bairn  that  e'er  was  born  !  What's 
a'  the  f raize  aboot,  ye  gowks  1"  (to  his  daughters) — 
"  a  whingin  get !  that'll  tak  mair  oot  o'  fowk's  pockets 
than  e'er'  it'll  pit  into  them  !  Mony  a  guid  profitable 
beast's  been  brought  into  the  warld  and  ne'er  a  word 
in  in'ts  heed." 

All  went  on  smoothly.  Lady  Maclaughlan  testified 
no  resentment.  Miss  Jacky  had  the  "  The  Whole 
Duty  of  Man "  at  her  finger-ends ;  and  Miss  Nicky 
was  not  more  severe  than  could  have  been  expected, 
considering,  as  she  did,  how  the  servants  at  Loch- 
marlie  must  be  living  at  hack  and  manger.  It  had 
been  decided  at  Glenfern  that  the  infant  heir  to  its 
consequence  could  not  with  propriety  be  christened 
anywhere  but  at  the  seat  of  his  forefathers.  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Douglas  had  good-humouredly  yielded  the  point ; 
and,  as  soon  as  she  was  able  for  the  change,  the  whole 
family  took  up  their  residence  for  a  season  under  the 
paternal  roof. 


MARRIAGE.  271 

Blissful  visions  floated  around  the  pillows  of  the 
happy  spinsters  the  night  preceding  the  christening, 
which  were  duly  detailed  at  the  breakfast-table  the 
following  morning. 

"I  declare  I  don't  know  what  to  think  of  my 
dream,"  began  Miss  Grizzy.  "I  dreamt  that  Lady 
Maclaughlan  was  upon  her  knees  to  you,  brother,  to 
get  you  to  take  an  emetic  ;  and  just  as  she  had  mixed  it 
up  so  nicely  in  some  of  our  black-currant  jelly,  little 
Norman  snatched  it  out  of  your  hand  and  ran  away 
with  it." 

"You're  eneugh  to  turn  onybody's  stamick  wi' 
youT  nonsense,"  returned  the  Laird  gruffly. 

"And  I,"  said  Miss  Jacky,  "thought  I  saw  you 
standing  in  your  shirt,  brother,  as  straight  as  a  rash, 
and  good  Lady  Girnachgowl  buckling  her  collar  upon 
you  with  her  own  hands." 

"I  wish  ye  wadna  deive  me  wi'  your  havers!" 
still  more  indignantly,  and  turning  his  shoulder  to 
the  fair  dreamer,  as  he  continued  to  con  over  the 
newspaper, 

"  And  I,"  cried  Miss  Nicky,  eager  to  get  her  mystic 
tale  disclosed,  "  I  thought,  brother,  I  saw  you  take  and 
throw  all  the  good  dreaming-bread  into  the  ash  hole." 

"  By  my  troth,  an'  ye  deserve  to  be  thrown  after't!" 
exclaimed  the  exasperated  Laird,  as  he  quitted  the 
room  in  high  wrath,  muttering  to  himself,  "  Hard  case 
— canna  get  peace — eat  my  vittals — fules — tawpios — • 
clavers  ! "  etc.  etc. 

"  I  declare  I  can't  conceive  why  Glenfern  should 


272  MAERIAGE. 

be  so  ill  pleased  at  our  dreams,"  said  Miss  Grizzy. 
"  Everybody  knows  dreams  are  always  contrary  ;  and 
even  were  it  otherwise,  I'm  sure  I  should  think  no 
shame  to  take  an  emetic,  especially  when  Lady  Mac- 
laughlan  was  at  the  trouble  of  mixing  it  up  so  nicely." 

"  And  we  have  all  worn  good  Lady  Girnachgowl's 
collar  before  now,"  said  Miss  Jacky. 

"  I  think  I  had  the  worst  of  it,  that  had  all  my 
good  dreaming-bread  destroyed,"  added  Miss  Nicky. 

"Nothing  could  be  more  natural  than  your  dreams," 
said  Mrs.  Douglas,  "  considering  how  all  these  subjects 
have  engrossed  you  for  some  time  past.  You,  Aunt 
Grizzy,  may  remember  how  desirous  you  were  of 
administering  one  of  Lady  Maclaughlan's  powders  to 
my  little  boy  yesterday ;  and  you,  Aunt  Jacky,  made 
a  point  of  trying  Lady  Girnachgowl's  collar  upon 
Mary,  to  convince  her  how  pleasant  it  was ;  while 
you,  Aunt  Nicky,  had  experienced  a  great  alarm  in 
supposing  your  cake  had  been  burned  in  the  oven. 
And  these  being  the  most  vivid  impressions  you  had 
received  during  the  day,  it  was  perfectly  natural  that 
they  should  have  retained  their  influence  during  a 
portion  of  the  night." 

The  interpretations  were  received  with  high  dis- 
dain. One  and  all  declared  they  never  dreamed  of 
anything  that  had  occurred ;  and  therefore  the  visions 
of  the  night  portended  some  extraordinary  good  for- 
tune to  the  family  in  general,  and  to  little  Norman  in 
particular. 

"  The  best  fortune  I  can  wish  for  him,  and  all  of 


MARRIAGE.  273 

us,  for  this  day  is,  that  he  should  remain  quiet  during 
the  ceremony,"  said  his  mother,  who  was  not  so  elated 
as  Lady  Macbeth  at  the  predictions  of  the  sisters. 

The  christening  party  mustered  strong;  and  the 
rites  of  baptism  were  duly  performed  by  the  Rev. 
Duncan  M 'Drone.  The  httle  Christian  had  been 
kissed  by  every  lady  in  company,  and  pronounced  by 
the  matrons  to  be  "  a  dainty  little  doug  !"  and  by  the 
misses  to  be  "the  sweetest  lamb  they  had  ever  seen!" 
The  cake  and  wine  was  in  its  progress  round  the  com- 
pany ;  when,  upon  its  being  tendered  to  the  old 
gentleman,  who  was  sitting  silent  in  his  arm-chair,  he 
abruptly  exclaimed,  in  a  most  discordant  voice,  "Hey! 
what's  a'  this  wastery  for?" — and  ere  an  answer 
could  be  returned  his  jaw  dropped,  his  eyes  fixed, 
and  the  Laird  of  Glenfern  ceased  to  breathe ! 


vol.  I. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

"They  say  miracles  are  past  ;  and  we  have  our  philosophical 
persons  to  make  modern  and  familiar  things  supernatural  and 
causeless.  Hence  it  is  that  we  make  trifles  of  terrors  ;  ensconc- 
ing ourselves  into  seeming  knowledge,  when  we  should  submit 
ourselves  to  an  unknown  fear." — All's  Well  that  Ends  Well. 

All  attempts  to  reanimate  the  lifeless  form  proved 
unavailing ;  and  the  horror  and  consternation  that 
reigned  in  the  castle  of  Glenfern  may  be  imagined, 
but  cannot  be  described.  There  is  perhaps  no  feeling 
of  our  nature  so  vague,  so  complicated,  so  mysterious, 
as  that  with  which  we  look  upon  the  cold  remains 
of  our  fellow-mortals.  The  dignity  with  which  death 
invests  even  the  meanest  of  his  victims  inspires  us 
with  an  awe  no  living  thing  can  create.  The  monarch 
on  his  throne  is  less  awful  than  the  beggar  in  his 
shroud.  The  marble  features — the  powerless  hand — 
the  stiffened  limbs — oh  !  who  can  contemplate  these 
with  feelings  that  can  be  defined?  These  are  the 
mockery  of  all  our  hopes  and  fears,  our  fondest  love, 
our  fellest  hate.  Can  it  be  that  we  now  shrink  with 
horror  from  the  touch  of  that  hand  which  but  yester- 
day was  fondly  clasped  in  our  own  ?  Is  that  tongue, 
whose  accents  even  now  dwell  in  our  ear,  for  ever 


MARRIAGE.  2(0 

chained  in  the  silence  of  death  1  These  black  and 
heavy  eyelids,  are  they  for  ever  to  seal  up  in  darkness 
the  eyes  whose  glance  no  earthly  power  could  restrain  1 
And  the  spirit  which  animated  the  clay,  where  is 
it  now  ■?  Is  it  Avrapt  in  bliss,  or  dissolved  in  woe  ? 
Does  it  witness  our  grief,  and  share  our  sorrows  1  or 
is  the  mysterious  tie  that  linked  it  Avith  mortality  for 
ever  broken  'i  And  the  remembrance  of  earthly  scenes, 
are  they  indeed  to  the  enfranchised  spirit  as  the  morn- 
ing dream,  or  the  dew  upon  the  early  flower  1  Reflec- 
tions such  as  these  naturally  arise  in  every  breast. 
Their  influence  is  felt,  though  their  import  cannot 
always  be  expressed.  The  principle  is  in  all  the  same, 
however  it  may  differ  in  its  operations. 

In  the  family  assembled  round  the  lifeless  form 
that  had  so  long  been  the  centre  of  their  domestic 
circle,  grief  showed  itself  under  various  forms.  The 
calm  and  manly  sorrow  of  the  son  ;  the  saint-lilce  feel- 
ings of  his  wife ;  the  youthful  agitation  of  Mary ;  the 
weak  superstitious  Availings  of  the  sisters ;  and  the 
loud  uncontrolled  lamentations  of  the  daughters ;  all 
betokened  an  intensity  of  suffering  that  arose  from 
the  same  source,  varied  according  to  the  different 
channels  in  which  it  flowed.  Even  the  stern  Lady 
Maclaughlan  was  subdued  to  something  of  kindreil 
feeling;  and  though  no  tears  dropped  from  her  eyes, 
she  sat  by  her  friends,  and  sought,  in  her  own  May, 
to  soften  their  affliction. 

The  assembled  guests,  who  had  not  yet  been  alile 
to  take  their  departure,  remained  in  the  drawing-room 


276  MARRIAGE. 

in  a  sort  of  restless  solemnity  peculiar  to  seasons  of 
collateral  affliction,  where  all  seek  to  heighten  the 
effect  upon  others,  and  shift  the  lesson  from  them- 
selves. Various  were  the  surmises  and  speculations 
as  to  the  cause  of  the  awful  transition  that  had  just 
taken  place. 

"  Glenfern  was  nae  like  a  man  that  wad  has  gaen 
aff  in  this  gate,"  said  one. 

"I  dinna  ken,"  said  another;  "I've  notic'd  a 
chainge  on  Glenfern  for  a  gey  while  noo." 

"  I  agree  wi'  you,  sir,"  said  a  third.     "  In  my  mind 
Glenfern's  been  droopin'  very  sair  ever  since  the  last 
tryst'' 

"At  Glenfern's  time  o'  life  it's  no  surprisin'," 
remarked  a  fourth,  who  felt  perfectly  secure  of  being 
fifteen  years  his  junior. 

"Glenfern  was  na  that  auld  neither,"  retorted  a 
fifth,  whose  conscience  smote  him  with  being  several 
years  his  senior. 

"  But  ho  had  a  deal  o'  vexation  frae  his  faemily," 
said  an  elderly  bachelor. 

"  Ye  offen  see  a  hale  stoot  man,  like  oor  puir 
freeiid,  gang  like  the  snuff  o'  a  cannel,"  coughed  up 
a  pthisicky  gentleman. 

"  He  was  aye  a  tume,  boss-looking  man  ever  since 
T  mind  him,"  wheezed  out  a  swollen  asthmatic  figure. 

"  An'  he  took  nae  care  o'  himsel',"  said  the  Laird 
of  Petllechass.  "His  diet  was  nae  what  it  should 
hae  been  at  his  time  o'  life.  An'  he  was  oot  an'  in, 
U])  an'  (loon,  in  a'  wathers,  wat  an'  dry." 


MABRIAGE.  277 

"Glenfern's  doings  had  naething  to  du  wi'  his 
death,"  said  an  ancient  gentlewoman  with  soleinnity. 
"They  maun  ken  little  wha  ne'er  heard  the  bod  word 
of  the  family."  And  she  repeated  in  Gaelic  words 
to  the  following  effect : — 

"  When  Lochdow  shall  turn  to  a  lin,^ 
In  Glenfern  ye'U  hear  the  din  ; 
When  frae  Benenck  they  shool  the  sna', 
O'er  Glenfern  the  leaves  will  fa'  ; 
W^hen  foreign  geer  grows  on  Benenck  tap. 
Then  the  fir  tree  will  be  Glenfern's  hap." 

"An'  noo,  ma'am,  will  ye  be  sae  gude  as  point  oot 
the  meanin'  o'  tliis  freet,"  said  an  incredulous-looking 
member  of  the  company ;  "  for  when  I  passed  Loch- 
dow this  mornin'  I  neither  saw  nor  heard  o'  a  Hn  ; 
an'  frae  this  window  we  can  a'  see  Benenck  \vi'  his 
white  night-cap  on ;  an'  he  wad  hae  little  to  do  that 
wad  try  to  shool  it  aff." 

"  It's  neither  o'  the  still  water  nor  the  stay  brae 
that  the  word  Avas  spoke,"  replied  the  dame,  with  a 
disdainful  frown ;  "  they  tak'  nae  part  in  our  doings  : 
but  kent  ye  nae  that  Lochdow  himsel'  had  tined  his 
sight  in  a  cataract ;  an'  is  nae  there  dule  an'  din 
eneuch  in  Glenfern  the  day  1  An'  kent  ye  nae  that 
Benenck  had  his  auld  white  pow  shaven,  an'  that 
he's  gettin'  a  jeezy  frae  Edinburgh  1 — an'  I'se  warran' 
he'll  be  in  his  braw  wig  the  very  day  that  Glenfern'l] 
be  laid  in  his  deal  coffin." 

The  company  admitted   the   application  was  too 

'  Cataract. 


278  MARHIAGE. 

close  to  be  resisted  ;  but  the  same  sceptic  (who,  by- 
the-bye,  was  only  a  low  country  merchant,  elevated 
by  purchase  to  the  dignity  of  a  Highland  laird)  was 
seen  to  shrug  his  shoulders,  and  heard  to  make  some 
sneering  remarks  on  the  days  of  second -sights  and 
such  superstitious  nonsense  being  past.  This  was 
Lastantly  laid  hold  of;  and  amongst  many  others  of 
the  same  sort,  the  truth  of  the  following  story  was 
attested  by  one  of  the  painty,  as  having  actually 
occurred  in  his  family  Avithin  his  own  remembrance. 

"As  Duncan  M'Crae  was  one  evening  descending 
Benvoilloich,  he  perceived  a  funeral  procession  in  the 
vale  beneath.  He  was  greatly  surprised,  not  having 
heard  of  any  death  in  the  country  ;  and  this  appeared 
to  be  the  burial  of  some  person  of  consequence,  from 
the  number  of  the  attendants.  He  made  all  the 
haste  lui  could  to  get  down;  and  as  he  drew  near 
he  counted  all  the  lairds  of  the  country  except  my 
fathei",  Sir  Murdoch.  He  was  astonished  at  this,  till 
he  recollected  that  he  was  away  to  the  low  country 
to  his  cousin's  marriage ;  but  he  felt  curious  to  know 
who  it  was,  though  some  unaccountable  feeling  pre- 
vented him  from  mixing  with  the  followers.  He 
therefore  kept  on  the  ridge  of  the  hill,  right  over 
their  heads,  and  near  enough  to  hear  them  speak ; 
but  although  he  saw  them  move  their  lips,  no  sound 
reached  his  ear.  He  kept  along  with  the  procession 
in  this  way  till  it  reached  the  Castle  Dochart  burying- 
ground,  and  there  it  stopped.  The  evening  was  close 
and  warm,  and  a  thick  mist  had  gathered  in  the  glen, 


MARRIAGE.  279 

while  the  tops  of  the  hills  shone  like  gold.  Not  a 
breatli  of  air  was  stirring,  but  the  trees  that  grew 
round  the  burying- ground  waved  and  soughed,  and 
some  withered  leaves  were  swirled  round  and  round, 
as  if  by  the  wind.  The  company  stood  a  while  to 
rest,  and  then  they  proceeded  to  open  the  iron  gates 
of  the  burying-ground ;  but  the  lock  was  rusted  and 
would  not  open.  Then  they  began  to  pull  down 
part  of  the  Avail,  and  Duncan  thought  how  angry  his 
master  would  be  at  this,  and  he  raised  his  voice  and 
shouted  and  hallooed  to  them,  but  to  no  purpose. 
Nobody  seemed  to  hear  him.  At  last  the  wall  was 
taken  down,  and  the  coffin  was  lifted  over,  and  just 
then  the  sun  broke  out,  and  glinted  on  a  new-made 
grave ;  and  as  they  were  laying  the  coffin  in  it,  it 
gave  way,  and  disclosed  Sir  Murdoch  himself  in  his 
dead  clothes ;  and  then  the  mist  gi'ew  so  thick, 
Duncan  could  see  no  more,  and  how  to  get  home  he 
knew  not ;  but  when  he  entered  his  own  door  he  was 
bathed  in  sweat,  and  white  as  any  corpse ;  and  all 
that  he  could  say  was,  that  he  had  seen  Castle 
Dochart's  burying. 

"The  following  day,"  continued  the  narrator,  "he 
"was  more  composed,  and  gave  the  account  you  have 
now  heard  ;  and  three  days  after  came  the  intelligence 
of  my  father  s  death.  He  had  dropped  down  in  a  lit 
that  very  evening,  when  entertaining  a  large  company 
in  honour  of  his  cousin's  marriage  ;  and  that  day  Aveek 
his  funeral  passed  through  Glenvalloch  exactly  as 
described  by  Duncan  M'Crae,  with  all  the  particulars'. 


280  MARRIAGE. 

The  gates  of  the  burying-ground  could  not  be  opened ; 
part  of  the  wall  was  taken  down  to  admit  the  coffin, 
which  received  some  injury,  and  gave  way  as  they 
were  placing  it  in  the  grave." 

Even  the  low-country  infidel  was  silenced  by  tlio 
solemnity  of  this  story;  and  soon  after  the  company 
dispersed,  every  one  panting  to  be  the  first  to  circu- 
late the  intelligence  of  Glenfern's  death. 

But  soon — oh,  how  soon  !  "  dies  in  human  hearts 
the  thought  of  death  I"  Even  the  paltry  detail  which 
death  creates  serves  to  detach  our  minds  from  the 
cause  itself.  So  it  was  Avith  the  family  of  Glenfern. 
Their  light  did  not  "shine  inward;"  and  after  the 
first  burst  of  sorrow  their  ideas  fastened  with  avidity 
on  all  the  paraphernalia  of  affliction.  Mr.  Douglas, 
indeed,  found  much  to  do  and  to  direct  to  be  done. 
The  elder  ladies  began  to  calculate  how  many  yards 
of  broad  hemming  would  be  required,  and  to  form  a 
muster-roll  of  the  company ;  with  this  improvement, 
that  it  Avas  to  be  ten  times  as  numerous  as  the  one 
that  had  assembled  at  the  christening;  while  the 
young  ones  busied  their  imaginations  as  to  the  effect 
of  new  mournings — a  luxury  to  them  hitherto  un- 
knoAvn.  Mrs.  Douglas  and  Mary  were  differently 
affected.  Eeligion  and  reflection  had  taught  the 
former  the  enviable  lesson  of  possessing  her  soul  in 
patience  under  every  trial;  and  while  she  inwardly 
mourned  the  fate  of  the  poor  old  man  who  had  been 
thus  suddenly  snatched  from  the  only  world  that  ever 
had  engaged  his  thoughts,  her  outward  aspect  wa8 


MARRIAGE.  281 

calm  and  serene.  The  impression  made  upon  Mary's 
feelings  was  of  a  more  powerful  nature.  She  had 
witnessed  suflfering,  and  watched  by  sick-beds ;  but 
death,  and  death  in  so  terrific  a  form,  was  new  to  her. 
She  had  been  standing  by  her  grandfather's  chair — 
her  head  was  bent  to  his — her  hand  rested  upon  his, 
when,  by  a  momentary  convulsion,  she  beheld  the  last 
dread  change — the  living  man  transformed  into  the 
lifeless  corpse.  The  countenance  but  now  fraught 
with  life  and  human  thoughts,  in  the  twinkling  of  an 
eye  was  covered  with  the  shades  of  death  !  It  was 
in  vain  that  Mary  prayed  and  reasoned  and  strove 
against  the  feelings  that  had  been  thus  powerfully 
excited.  One  object  alone  possessed  her  imagination 
— the  image  of  her  grandfather  dying — dead;  his 
grim  features,  his  ghastly  visage,  his  convulsive  grasp, 
were  ever  present,  by  day  and  by  night.  Her  nervous 
system  had  received  a  shock  too  powerful  for  all  the 
strength  of  her  understanding  to  contend  with.  Mrs. 
Douglas  sought  by  every  means  to  soothe  her  feelings 
and  divert  her  attention  ;  and  flattered  herself  that  a 
short  time  would  allny  the  perturbation  of  her  youth- 
ful emotions. 

Five  hundred  persons,  horse  and  foot,  high  and 
low,  male  and  female,  graced  the  obsequies  of  the 
Laird  of  Glenfern.  Benenck  was  there  in  his  new 
wig,  and  tlie  autumnal  leaves  dropped  on  the  cofHn  as 
it  was  borne  slowlv  alouLi'  the  vale  ! 


CHAPTER  XXVIL 

"It  is  no  diminution,  but  a  recommendation  of  human  nature, 
that,  in  some  instances,  passion  gets  the  better  of  reason,  and 
all  that  we  can  tliink  is  impotent  against  half  what  we  feeL" — 
Spectator. 

"  Life  is  a  mingled  yarn ; "  few  of  its  afflictions  but 
are  accompanied  with  some  alleviation — none  of  its 
blessings  that  do  not  bring  some  alloy.  Like  most 
other  events  that  long  have  formed  the  object  of 
yearning  and  almost  hopeless  wishes,  and  on  which 
have  been  built  the  fairest  structure  of  human  felicity, 
the  arrival  of  the  young  heir  of  Glenfern  produced 
a  less  extraordinary  degree  of  happiness  than  had 
been  anticipated.  The  melancholy  event  which  had 
marked  the  first  ceremonial  of  his  life  had  cast  its 
gloom  alike  on  all  nearly  connected  with  him ;  and 
when  time  had  dispelled  the  clouds  of  recent  mourn- 
ing,  and  restored  the  mourners  to  their  habitual  train 
of  thought  and  action,  somewhat  of  the  novelty  which 
had  given  him  such  lively  interest  in  the  hearts  of  the 
sisters  had  subsided.  The  distressing  conviction,  too, 
more  and  more  forced  itself  upon  them,  that  their 
advice  and  assistance  were  likely  to  be  wholly  over- 
looked in  the  nurture  of  the  infant  mind  and  manage- 


MARRIAGE.  283 

ment  of  the  thriving  frame  of  their  little  nephew. 
Their  active  energies,  therefore,  driven  back  to  the 
accustomed  channels,  after  many  murmurs  and  severe 
struggles,  again  revolved  in  the  same  sphere  as  before. 
True,  they  sighed  and  mourned  for  a  time,  but  soon 
found  occupation  congenial  to  their  nature  in  the  little 
departments  of  life — dressing  crape  ;  reviving  black 
silk ;  converting  narrow  hems  into  broad  hems  ;  and 
in  short,  who  so  busy,  who  so  important,  as  the  ladies 
of  Glenf ern  ?  As  Madame  de  Stael,  or  de  Something 
says,  "they  fulfilled  their  destinies."  Their  walk  lay 
amongst  threads  and  pickles ;  their  sphere  extended 
from  the  garret  to  the  pantry ;  and  often  as  they 
sought  to  diverge  from  it,  their  instinct  alwaj's  led 
them  to  return  to  it,  as  the  tract  in  which  they  were 
destined  to  move.  There  are  creatures  of  the  same 
sort  in  the  male  part  of  the  creation,  but  it  is  foreign 
to  my  purpose  to  describe  them  at  present.  Neither 
are  the  trifling  and  insignificant  of  either  sex  to  be 
treated  with  contempt,  or  looked  upon  as  useless  by 
those  whom  God  has  gifted  with  higher  powers.  In 
the  arrangements  of  an  all -wise  Providence  there  is 
nothing  created  in  vain.  Every  link  of  the  vast  chain 
that  embraces  creation  helps  to  hold  together  the 
various  relations  of  hf e ;  and  all  is  beautiful  gradation, 
from  the  human  vegetable  to  the  glorious  archangel. 

If  patient  hope,  if  unexulting  joy,  and  chastened 
anticipation,  sanctifying  a  mother's  love,  could  have 
secured  her  happiness,  Mrs.  Douglas  would  have  found, 
in  the  smiles  of  her  infant,  all  the  comfort  her  virtue 


284  MAEEIAGE. 

deserved.  But  she  still  had  to  drink  of  that  cup  of 
sweet  and  bitter,  which  must  bathe  the  lips  of  all 
who  breathe  the  breath  of  life. 

While  the  instinct  of  a  parent's  love  warmed  her 
heart,  as  she  pressed  her  infant  to  her  bosom,  the 
sadness  of  affectionate  and  rational  solicitude  stiHod 
every  sentiment  of  pleasure  as  she  gazed  on  tho 
altered  and  drooping  form  of  her  adopted  daughter — 
of  the  child  who  had  already  repaid  the  cares  that 
had  been  lavished  on  her,  and  in  whom  she  descried 
the  promise  of  a  plenteous  harvest  from  the  good  seed 
she  had  sown.  Though  Mary  had  been  healthy  iu 
childhood,  her  constitution  was  naturally  delicate,  and 
she  had  latterly  outgrown  her  strength.  The  shock 
she  had  sustained  by  her  grandfather's  death,  thus 
operating  on  a  Aveakened  frame,  had  produced  an 
effect  apparently  most  alarming ;  and  the  efforts  she 
made  to  exert  herself  only  served  to  exhaust  her. 
She  felt  all  the  watchful  solicitude,  the  tender 
anxieties  of  her  aunt,  and  bitterly  reproached  herself 
with  not  better  repaying  these  exertions  for  her 
happiness.  A  thousand  times  she  tried  to  analyse 
and  extirpate  the  saddening  impression  that  weighed 
upon  her  heart. 

"It  is  not  sorrow,"  reasoned  she  with  herself, 
"  that  thus  oppresses  me ;  for  though  I  reverenced  my 
grandfather,  yet  the  loss  of  his  society  has  scarcely 
been  felt  by  me.  It  cannot  be  fear — the  fear  of  death  ; 
for  my  soul  is  not  so  abject  as  to  confine  its  desires  to 
this  sublunary  scene.     What,  then,  is  this  mysterious 


jrARRIAGE.  285 

dread  that  has  taken  possession  of  me  1  Why  do  I 
suffer  my  mind  to  suggest  to  me  images  of  horror, 
instead  of  visions  of  bliss  1  Why  can  I  not,  as 
formerly,  picture  to  myself  the  beauty  and  the  bright- 
ness of  a  soul  casting  off  mortality  "2  Why  must  the 
convulsed  grasp,  the  stifled  groan,  the  glaring  eye, 
for  ever  come  betwixt  heaven  and  me  1" 

Alas !  Mary  was  unskilled  to  answer.  Hers  was 
the  season  for  feeling,  not  for  reasoning.  She  knew 
not  that  hers  was  the  struggle  of  imagination  striving 
to  maintain  its  ascendency  over  reality.  She  had  heard 
and  read,  and  thought  and  talked  of  death;  but  it  was 
of  death  in  its  fairest  form,  in  its  softest  transition  : 
and  the  veil  had  been  abruptly  torn  from  her  eyes  ;  the 
gloomy  pass  had  suddenly  disclosed  itself  before  her, 
not  strewed  Avith  flowers  but  shrouded  in  horrors. 
Like  all  persons  of  sensibility,  Mary  had  a  disposition 
to  view  everything  in  a  beait  ideal :  whether  that  is  a 
boon  most  fraught  with  good  or  ill  it  Avere  difficult  to 
ascertain.  While  the  delusion  lasts  it  is  productive 
of  pleasure  to  its  possessor ;  but  oh  !  the  thousand 
aches  that  heart  is  destined  to  endure  which  clings  to 
the  stability  and  relies  on  the  permanency  of  earthly 
happiness  !  But  the  youthful  heart  must  ever  remain 
a  stranger  to  this  saddening  truth,  P^xperience  only 
can  convince  us  that  happiness  is  not  a  plant  of  this 
world ;  and  that,  though  many  an  eye  hath  beheld  its 
blossoms  no  mortal  hand  hath  ever  gathered  its  fruits. 
This,  then,  was  Mary's  first  lesson  in  Avhat  is  called 
the  knowledge  of  life,  as  opposed  to  the  beau  ideal  of 


286  MARKIAGE. 

a  young  and  ardent  imagination  in  love  with  life, 
and  luxuriating  in  its  own  happiness.  And,  upon  such 
a  mind  it  could  not  fail  of  jjroducing  a  powerful 
impression. 

The  anguish  Mrs.  Douglas  experienced  as  she  wdt- 
nessed  the  changing  colour,  lifeless  step,  and  forced 
smile  of  her  darling  Mhe  was  not  mitigated  by  the 
good  sense  or  sympathy  of  those  around  her.  While 
Mary  had  prospered  under  her  management,  in  the 
consciousness  that  she  was  fulfilling  her  duty  to  the 
best  of  her  abilities,  she  could  listen  with  placid  cheer- 
fulness to  the  broken  hints  of  disaf)probation,  or  forced 
good  wishes  for  the  success  of  her  new-fangled  schemes, 
that  were  levelled  at  her  by  the  sisters.  But  now, 
when  her  cares  seemed  defeated,  it  was  an  additional 
thorn  in  her  heart  to  have  to  endure  the  commonplace 
wisdom  and  self-gratulations  of  the  almost  exult- 
ing aunts ;  not  that  they  had  the  slightest  intention 
of  wounding  the  feelings  of  their  niece,  whom  they 
really  loved,  but  the  temptation  was  irresistible  of 
proving  that  they  had  been  in  the  right  and  she  in 
the  wrong,  especially  as  no  such  acknowledgment  had 
yet  been  extorted  from  her. 

"  It  is  nonsense  to  ascribe  Mary's  dwining  to  her 
grandfather's  death,"  said  Miss  Jacky,  "  We  were  all 
nearer  to  him  in  propinquity  than  she  was,  and  none 
of  our  healths  have  suffered." 

"And  there's  his  own  daughters,"  added  Miss 
Grizzy,  "  who,  of  course,  must  have  felt  a  great  deal 
more  than  anybody  else — there  can  be  no  doubt  of 


MARrjAGE.  287 

that  —  such  sensible  creatures  as  them  must  feel  a 
great  deal ;  but  yet  you  see  how  they  have  got  up 
their  spirits — I'm  sure  it's  wonderful ! " 

"  It  shows  their  sense  and  the  effects  of  education," 
said  Miss  Jacky. 

"Girls  that  sup  their  porridge  will  always  cut  a 
good  figure,"  quoth  Kicky. 

"  With  their  fine  feehngs  I'm  sure  we  have  all 
reason  to  be  thankful  that  they  have  been  blest  with 
such  hearty  stomachs,"  observed  Miss  Grizzy;  "if 
they  had  been  delicate,  like  poor  Mary's,  I'm  sure  I 
declare  I  don't  know  what  we  would  have  done ;  for 
certainly  they  were  all  most  dreadfully  affected  at  their 
excellent  father's  death ;  Avhich  was  quite  natural,  poor 
things !  I'm  sure  there's  no  pacifying  poor  Baby,  and 
even  yet,  neither  Bella  nor  Betsey  can  bear  to  be  left 
alone  in  a  dark  room.  Tibby  has  to  sleep  with  them 
still  every  night ;  and  a  lighted  candle  too — which  is 
much  to  their  credit — and  j'et  I'm  sure  it's  not  with 
reading.  I'm  certain — indeed,  I  think  there's  no  doubt 
of  it — that  reading  does  young  people  much  harm.  It 
puts  things  into  their  heads  that  never  would  have 
been  there  but  for  books.  I  declare,  I  think  reading's 
a  very  dangerous  thing ;  I'm  certain  all  Mary's  bad 
health  is  entirely  owing  to  reading.  You  know  we 
always  thought  she  read  a  great  deal  too  much  for 
her  good." 

"Much  depends  upon  the  choice  of  books,"  said 
Jacky,  with  an  air  of  the  most  profound  wisdonx 
"  Fordyce's  Sermons  and  the  History  of  Scotland  are 


288  MAPtRIAGE. 

two  of  the  very  few  books  I  would  put  into  the  hands 
of  a  young  Avoman,  Our  girls  have  read  little  else," 
— casting  a  look  at  Mrs.  Douglas,  who  was  calmly 
pursuing  her  work  in  the  midst  of  this  shower  of 
darts  all  levelled  at  her. 

"To  be  sure,"  returned  Grizzy,  "it  is  a  thousand 
pities  that  Mary  has  been  allowed  to  go  on  so  long ; 
not,  I'm  sure,  that  any  of  us  mean  to  reflect  upon  you, 
my  dear  Mrs.  Douglas ;  for  of  course  it  was  all  owing 
to  your  ignorance  and  inexperience ;  and  that,  you 
know,  you  could  not  help ;  for  it  was  not  your  fault ; 
nobody  can  blame  you.  I'm  certain  you  would  have 
done  what  is  right  if  you  had  only  known  better ; 
but  of  course  we  must  all  know  much  better  than 
you ;  because,  you  know,  we  are  all  a  great  deal  older, 
and  especially  Lady  Maclaughlan,  who  has  the  greatest 
experience  in  the  diseases  of  old  men  especially,  and 
infants.  Indeed  it  has  been  the  study  of  her  life 
almost ;  for,  you  know,  poor  Sir  Sampson  is  never 
well ;  and  I  dare  say,  if  Mary  had  taken  some  of  her 
nice  worm -lozenges,  which  certainly  cured  Duncan 
M'Nab's  wife's  daughter's  little  girl  of  the  jaundice, 
and  used  that  valuable  growing  embrocation,  which 
we  are  all  sensible  made  Baby  a  great  deal  fatter,  I 
dare  say  there  would  have  been  nothing  the  matter 
with  her  to-day." 

"Mary  has  been  too  much  accustomed  to  sj^end 
both  her  time  and  money  amongst  idle  vagrants," 
said  Nicky. 

"Economy  of  both,"  subjoined  Jacky,  with  an  air 


MARRIAGE.  289 

of  humility,  "  I  confess  /  have  ever  been  accustomed 
to  consider  as  virtues.  These  handsome  respectable 
new  bonnets" — looking/row  Mrs.  Douglas — "  that  our 
girls  got  just  before  their  poor  father's  death,  were 
entirely  the  fruits  of  their  own  savings." 

"And  I  declare,"  said  Grizzy,  who  did  not  excel  in 
inuendos,  "I  declare,  for  my  part — although  at  the 
same  time,  my  dear  niece,  I'm  certain  you  are  far  from 
intending  it — I  really  think  it's  very  disrespectful  to 
Sir  Sampson  and  Lady  Maclaughlan,  in  anybody,  and 
especially  such  near  neighbours,  to  give  more  in  charity 
than  they  do ;  for  you  may  be  sure  they  give  as  much 
as  they  think  proper,  and  they  must  be  the  best  judges, 
and  can  aftbrd  to  give  what  they  please ;  for  Sir 
Sampson  could  buy  and  sell  all  of  us  a  hundred  times 
over  if  he  liked.  It's  long  since  the  Lochmarlie  estate 
was  called  seven  thousand  a  year;  and  besides  that 
there's  the  Birkendale  property  and  the  Glenmavis 
estate,  and  I'm  sure  I  can't  tell  you  all  Avhat ;  but 
there's  no  doubt  he's  a  man  of  immense  fortune." 

Well  it  was  known  and  frequently  was  it  discussed, 
the  iniquity  of  Mary  being  allowed  to  waste  her  time 
and  squander  her  money  amongst  the  poor,  instead 
of  being  taught  the  practical  virtues  of  making  her 
own  gowns,  and  of  hoarding  up  her  pocket-money  for 
some  selfish  gratification. 

In  colloquies  such  as  these  day  after  day  passed 
on  without  any  visible  improvement  taking  place  in 
her  health.  Only  one  remedy  suggested  itself  to 
Mrs.  Douglas,  and  that  was  to  remove  her  to  the 

VOL.  I.  U  X. 


290  MAEPJAGE. 

south  of  England  for  the  winter.  Milder  air  and 
change  of  scene  she  had  no  doubt  would  prove  effica- 
cious ;  and  her  opinion  was  confirmed  by  that  of  the 

celebrated  Dr.  ,  who,  having  been  summoned  to 

the  Laird  of  Pettlechass,  had  paid  a  visit  at  Glenfern 
en  passant.  How  so  desirable  an  event  was  to  be 
accomplished  was  the  difficulty.  By  the  death  of  his 
father  a  variety  of  business  and  an  extent  of  farming 
had  devolved  upon  Mr.  Douglas  which  obliged  him 
to  fix  his  residence  at  Glenfern,  and  rendered  it  im- 
possible for  him  to  be  long  absent  from  it.  Mrs. 
Douglas  had  engaged  in  the  duties  of  a  nurse  to  her 
little  boy,  and  to  take  him  or  leave  him  was  equally 
out  of  the  question. 

In  this  dilemma  the  only  resource  that  offered  was 
that  of  sending  Mary  for  a  few  months  to  her  mother. 
True,  it  was  a  painful  necessity ;  for  Mrs.  Douglas 
seldom  heard  from  her  sister-in-law,  and  when  she 
did,  her  letters  were  short  and  cold.  She  sometimes 
desired  "a  kiss  to  her  (Mrs.  Douglas's)  little  girl," 
and  once,  in  an  extraordinary  fit  of  good  humour, 
had  actually  sent  a  locket  with  her  hair  in  a  letter  by 
post,  for  which  Mrs.  Douglas  had  to  pay  something 
more  than  the  value  of  the  present.  This  was  all 
that  Mary  knew  of  her  mother,  and  the  rest  of  her 
family  were  still  greater  strangers  to  her.  Her  father 
remained  in  a  distant  station  in  India,  and  was  seldom 
heard  of.  Her  brother  was  gone  to  sea ;  and  though 
she  had  written  repeatedly  to  her  sister,  her  letters 
remained    unnoticed.       Under    these    circumstances 


MARRIAGE.  291 

there  was  something  revolting  in  the  idea  of  obtrud- 
ing Mary  upon  the  notice  of  her  relations,  and  trust- 
ing to  their  kindness  even  for  a  few  months;  yet 
her  health,  perhaps  her  life,  was  at  stake,  and  Mrs. 
Douglas  felt  she  had  scarcely  a  right  to  hesitate. 

"  Mary  has  perhaps  been  too  long  an  alien  from 
her  own  family,"  said  she  to  herself ;  "  this  will  be  a 
means  of  her  becoming  acquainted  with  them,  and  of 
introducing  her  to  that  sphere  in  which  she  is  probably 
destined  to  walk.  Under  her  uncle's  roof  she  will 
surely  be  safe,  and  in  the  society  of  her  mother  and 
sister  she  cannot  be  unhappy.  New  scenes  will  give 
a  stimulus  to  her  mind  ;  the  necessity  of  exertion  will 
brace  the  languid  faculties  of  her  soul,  and  a  few 
short  months,  I  trust,  will  restore  her  to  me  such  and 
even  superior  to  what  she  was.  Why,  then,  should  1 
hesitate  to  do  what  my  conscience  tells  me  ought  to 
be  done  1  Alas  !  it  is  because  I  selfishly  shrink  from 
the  pain  of  separation,  and  am  unwilling  to  relinquish, 
even  for  a  season,  one  of  the  many  blessings  Heaven 
has  bestowed  upon  me."  And  ]\Irs.  Douglas,  noble 
and  disinterested  as  ever,  rose  superior  to  the  weak- 
ness that  she  felt  Avas  besetting  her.  Mary  listened 
to  her  communication  with  a  throbbing  heart  and 
eyes  suffused  with  tears ;  to  part  from  her  aunt  was 
agony ;  but  to  behold  her  mother — she  to  whom  she 
owed  her  existence,  to  embrace  a  sister  too — and  one 
for  whom  she  felt  all  those  mj'sterious  yearnings 
which  twins  are  said  to  entertain  towards  each  other 
^oh,  there  was  rapture  in  the  thought,  and  ^Mary's 


292  MARRIAGE. 

buoyant  heart   fluctuated   between  the  extremes  of 
anguish  and  delight. 

The  venerable  sisters  received  the  intelligence  with 
much  surprise  :  they  did  not  know  very  well  what  to 
say  about  it ;  there  was  much  to  be  said  both  for  and 
against  it.  Lady  Maclaughlan  had  a  high  opinion  of 
English  air ;  but  then  they  had  heard  the  morals  of 
the  people  were  not  so  good,  and  there  were  a  great 
many  dissipated  young  men  in  England ;  though,  to 
be  sure,  there  was  no  denying  but  the  mineral  waters 
were  excellent;  and,  in  short,  it  ended  in  Miss  Grizzy's 
sitting  down  to  concoct  an  epistle  to  Lady  Mac- 
laughlan ;  in  Miss  Jacky's  beginning  to  draw  up  a 
code  of  instructions  for  a  young  woman  upon  her 
entrance  into  life ;  and  Miss  Nicky  hoping  that  if 
Mary  did  go,  she  would  take  care  not  to  bring  back 
any  extravagant  English  notions  with  her.  The 
younger  set  debated  amongst  themselves  how  many 
of  them  would  be  invited  to  accompany  Mary  to  Eng- 
land, and  from  thence  fell  to  disputing  the  possession 
of  a  brown  hair  trunk,  with  a  flourished  D  in  brass 
letters  on  the  top. 

Mrs.  Douglas,  with  repressed  feelings,  set  about 
offering  the  sacrifice  she  had  planned,  and  in  a  letter 
to  Lady  Juliana,  descriptive  of  her  daughter's  situa- 
tion, she  sought  to  excite  her  tenderness  without 
creating  an  alarm.  How  far  she  succeeded  will  be 
seen  hereafter.  In  the  meantime  we  must  take  a 
retrospective  glance  at  the  last  seventeen  years  of  her 
Ladyship's  life. 


CHAPTEE  XXVIII. 

Her  "only  labour  was  to  kill  the  time  ; 
And  labour  dire  it  is,  and  weary  woe. " 

Cadlc  of  Indolence. 

Years  liad  rolled  on  amidst  heartless  pleasures  and  joy- 
less amusements,  but  Lady  Juliana  was  made  neither 
the  wiser  nor  the  better  by  added  years  and  increased 
experience.  Time  had  in  vain  turned  his  glass  before 
eyes  still  dazzled  with  the  gaudy  allurements  of  the 
world,  for  she  took  "  no  note  of  time  "  but  as  the 
thing  that  was  to  take  her  to  the  Opera  and  the  Park, 
and  that  sometimes  hurried  her  excessively,  and  some- 
times bored  her  to  death.  At  length  she  was  com- 
pelled to  abandon  her  chase  after  happiness  in  the 
only  sphere  where  she  believed  it  was  to  be  found. 
Lord  Courtland's  declining  health  unfitted  him  for 
the  dissipation  of  a  London  life ;  and,  by  the  advice 
of  his  physician,  he  resolved  upon  retiring  to  a  country 
seat  which  he  possessed  in  the  vicinity  of  Bath.  Lady 
Juliana  was  in  despair  at  the  thoughts  of  this  sudden 
wrench  from  what  she  termed  "life ;"  but  she  had  no 
resource ;  for  though  her  good-natured  husband  gave 
her  the  whole  of  General  Cameron's  allowance,  that 
scarcely  served  to  keep  her  in  clothes ;  and  though 


294  MARRIAGE. 

her  brother  was  perfectly  wilHng  that  she  and  her 
children  should  occupy  apartments  in  his  house,  yet 
he  would  have  been  equally  acquiescent  had  she  pro- 
posed to  remove  from  it.     Lady  Juliana  had  a  sort  of 
instinctive  knowledge  of  this,  which  prevented  her 
from    breaking   out    into   open   remonstrance.      She 
therefore  contented   herself   with   being   more   than 
usually   peevish   and   irascible   to   her  servants   and 
children,  and  talking  to  her  friends  of  the  prodigious 
sacrifice  she  Avas  about  to  make  for  her  brother  and 
his  family,  as  if  it  had  been  the  cutting  off  of  a  hand 
or  tlie  plucking  out  of  an  eye.     To  have  heard  her, 
any  one  unaccustomed  to  the  hyperbole  of  fashionable 
language  would  have  deemed  Botany  Bay  the  nearest 
possible    point    of    destination.      Parting    from    her 
fashionable  acquaintances  was  tearing   herself   from 
all  she  loved ;  quitting  London  was  bidding  adieu  to 
the  world.     Of  course  there  could  be  no  society  where 
she  was  going,  but  still  she  would  do  her  duty ;  she 
would  not  desert  dear  Frederick  and  his  poor  children ! 
In  short,  no  martyr  was  ever  led  to  the  stake  with 
half  the  notions  of  heroism  and  self-devotion  as  those 
with  which  Lady  Juliana  stepped  into  the  barouche 
that  was  to  conduct  her  to  Beech  Park.     In  the  society 
of  piping  bullfinches,  pink  canaries,  gray  parrots,  gold 
fish,  green  squirrels,  Italian  greyhounds,  and  French 
poodles,  she  sought  a  refuge  from  despair.     But  even 
these  varied  charms,  after  a  while,  failed  to  please. 
The   bullfinches   grew   hoarse ;    the   canaries    turned 
brown ;    the   parrots   became   stupid ;   the   gold   fish 


MAERIAGE.  295 

would  not  eat ;  the  squirrels  were  cross ;  the  dogs 
fought ;  even  a  shell  grotto  that  was  constructing  fell 
down ;  and  by  the  time  the  aviary  and  conservatory 
were  filled,  they  had  lost  their  interest.  The  children 
were  the  next  subjects  for  her  Ladyship's  ennui  to 
discharge  itself  ujion.  Lord  Courtland  had  a  son 
some  years  older,  and  a  daughter  nearly  of  the  same 
age  as  her  own.  It  suddenly  occurred  to  her  that 
they  must  be  educated,  and  that  she  would  educate 
the  girls  herself.  As  the  first  step  she  engaged  two 
governesses,  French  and  Italian ;  modern  treatises  on 
the  subject  of  education  were  ordered  from  London, 
looked  at,  admired,  and  arranged  on  gilded  shelves 
and  sofa  tables ;  and  could  their  contents  have  exhaled 
with  the  odours  of  their  Russia  leather  bindings.  Lady 
Juhana's  dressing-room  would  have  been  what  Sir 
Joshua  RejTiolds  says  every  seminary  of  learning  is, 
"an  atmosphere  of  floating  knowledge."  But  amidst 
this  splendid  display  of  human  lore,  THE  BOOK  found 
no  place.  She  had  heard  of  the  Bible,  however,  and 
even  knew  it  was  a  book  appointed  to  be  read  in 
churches,  and  given  to  poor  people,  along  with  Eum- 
ford  soup  and  flannel  shirts ;  but  as  the  rule  of  life, 
as  the  book  that  alone  could  make  wise  unto  salvation, 
this  Christian  parent  was  ignorant  as  the  Hottentot 
or  Hindoo. 

Three  days  beheld  the  rise,  progress,  and  decline 
of  Lady  Juliana's  whole  sj'stem  of  education ;  and  it 
would  have  been  well  for  the  children  had  the  trust 
been  delegated  to  those  better  qualified  to  discharge 


296  MARKIAGE. 

it.  But  neither  of  the  preceptresses  was  better  skilled 
in  the  only  true  knowledge.  Signora  Cicianai  was  a 
bigoted  Catholic,  whose  faith  hung  upon  her  beads, 
and  Madame  Grignon  Avas  an  esprit  forte,  who  had  no 
faith  in  anything  but  le  plaisir.  But  the  Signora's 
singing  was  heavenly,  and  Madame's  dancing  was 
divine,  and  what  lacked  there  more  1 

So  passed  the  first  years  of  beings  training  for 
immortality.  The  children  insensibly  ceased  to  be 
children,  and  Lady  Juliana  would  have  beheld  the 
increasing  height  and  beauty  of  her  daughter  with 
extreme  disapprobation,  had  not  that  beauty,  by 
awakening  her  ambition,  also  excited  her  affection,  if 
the  term  affection  could  be  applied  to  that  heterogene- 
ous mass  of  feelings  and  propensities  that  "  shape  had 
none  distinguishable."  Lady  Juliana  had  fallen  into 
an  error  very  common  with  wiser  heads  than  hers — 
that  of  mistaking  the  effect  for  the  cause.  She  looked 
no  farther  than  to  her  union  with  Henry  Douglas  for 
the  foundation  of  all  her  unhappiness ;  it  never  once 
occurred  to  her  that  her  marriage  was  only  the  con- 
sequence of  something  previously  wrong ;  she  saw  not 
the  headstrong  passions  that  had  impelled  her  to 
please  herself — no  matter  at  what  price.  She  thought 
not  of  the  want  of  principle,  she  blushed  not  at  the 
want  of  delicacy,  that  had  led  her  to  deceive  a  parent 
and  elope  with  a  man  to  whose  character  she  was 
a  total  stranger.  She  therefore  considered  herself  as 
having  fallen  a  victim  to  love ;  and  could  she  only 
save  her  daughter  from  a  similar  error  she  might  yet 


MARRIAGE.  297 

by  her  means  retrieve  her  fallen  fortune.  To  implant 
principles  of  rehgion  and  virtue  in  her  mind  was  not 
within  the  compass  of  her  own  ;  but  she  could  scoiF  at 
every  pure  and  generous  affection ;  she  could  ridicule 
every  disinterested  attachment ;  and  she  could  expa- 
tiate on  the  never-fading  joys  that  attend  on  wealth 
and  titles,  jewels  and  equipages ;  and  all  this  she  did 
in  the  belief  that  she  was  acting  the  part  of  a  most 
wise  and  tender  parent !  The  seed,  thus  carefully 
sown,  promised  to  bring  forth  an  abundant  harvest. 
At  eighteen  Adelaide  Douglas  was  as  heartless  and 
ambitious  as  she  was  beautiful  and  accompUshed  ;  but 
the  surface  was  covered  with  flowers,  and  who  would 
have  thought  of  analysing  the  soil  1 

It  sometimes  happens  that  the  very  means  used 
with  success  in  the  formation  of  one  character  pro- 
duce a  totally  opposite  effect  upon  another.  The 
mind  of  Lady  Emily  Lindore  had  undergone  exactly 
the  same  process  in  its  formation  as  that  of  her  cousin ; 
yet  in  all  things  they  differed.  "Whether  it  were  the 
independence  of  high  birth,  or  the  pride  of  a  mind 
conscious  of  its  own  powers,  she  had  hitherto  resisted 
the  sophistry  of  her  governesses  and  the  solecisms  of 
her  aunt.  But  her  notions  of  right  and  wrong  were 
too  crude  to  influence  the  general  tenor  of  her  life,  or 
operate  as  restraints  upon  a  naturally  high  spirit  and 
impetuous  temper.  Not  all  the  united  efforts  of  her 
preceptresses  had  been  able  to  form  a  manner  for 
their  pupil;  nor  could  their  authority  restrain  her 
from  saying  what  she  thought,  and  doing  what  she 


298  MARRIAGE. 

pleased ;  and,  in  spite  of  botli  precept  and  example, 
Lady  Emily  remained  as  insupportably  natural  and 
sincere  as  she  was  beautiful  and  piquante.  At  six 
years  old  she  had  declared  her  intention  of  marrying 
her  cousin  Edward  Douglas,  and  at  eighteen  her  words 
were  little  less  equivocal  Lord  Courtland,  who  never 
disturbed  himself  about  anything,  was  rather  diverted 
with  this  juvenile  attachment ;  and  Lady  Juliana,  who 
cared  little  for  her  son,  and  still  less  for  her  niece, 
only  wondered  how  people  could  be  such  fools  as  to 
think  of  marrying  for  love,  after  she  had  told  them 
how  miserable  it  would  make  them. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

"  Unthought  of  frailties  cheat  us  in  the  wise  ; 
The  fool  lies  hid  ia  inconsistencies." 

Pope. 

Such  were  the  female  members  of  the  family  to  whom 
Mary  was  about  to  be  introduced.  In  her  mother's 
heart  she  had  no  place,  for  of  her  absent  husband  and 
neglected  daughter  she  seldom  thought;  and  their 
letters  were  scarcely  read,  and  rarely  answered.  Even 
good  Miss  Grizzy's  elaborate  epistle,  in  which  were 
curiously  entwined  the  death  of  her  brother  and  the 
birth  and  christening  of  her  grand-nephew,  in  a  truly 
Gordian  manner,  remained  disentangled.  Had  her 
Ladyship  only  read  to  the  middle  of  the  seventh  page 
she  would  have  learned  the  indisposition  of  her 
daughter,  with  the  various  opinions  thereupon ;  but 
poor  Miss  Grizzy's  labours  were  vain,  for  her  letter 
remains  a  dead  letter  to  this  day.  Mrs.  Douglas  was 
therefore  the  first  to  convey  the  unwelcome  intelligence, 
and  to  suggest  to  the  mind  of  the  mother  that  her 
ahenated  daughter  still  retained  some  claims  upon  her 
care  and  aficction  ;  and  although  this  was  done  with 
all  the  tenderness  and  delicacy  of  a  gentle  and  enhght- 


.300  MARRIAGE. 

ened  mind,  it  called  forth  the  most  bitter  indignation 
from  Lady  Juliana. 

She  almost  raved  at  what  she  termed  the  base 
ingratitude  and  hypocrisy  of  her  sister-in-law.  After 
the  sacrifice  she  had  made  in  giving  up  her  child  to 
her  when  she  had  none  of  her  own,  it  was  a  pretty 
return  to  send  her  back  only  to  die.  But  she  saw 
through  it.  She  did  not  believe  a  word  of  the  girl's 
illness ;  that  was  a  trick  to  get  rid  of  her.  Now  they 
had  a  child  of  their  own,  they  had  no  use  for  hers ; 
but  she  was  not  to  be  made  a  fool  of  in  such  a  way, 
and  by  such  people,  etc.  etc. 

"If  Mrs.  Douglas  is  so  vile  a  woman,"  said  the 
provoking  Lady  Emily,  "the  sooner  my  cousin  is 
taken  from  her  the  better." 

"You  don't  understand  these  things,  Emily,"  re- 
turned her  aunt  impatiently. 

"  What  things  ? " 

"  The  trouble  and  annoyance  it  will  occasion  me 
to  take  charge  of  the  girl  at  this  time." 

"  Why  at  this  time  more  than  at  any  other  1 " 

•'  Absurd,  my  dear  !  how  can  you  ask  so  foolish  a 
question  ?  Don't  you  know  that  you  and  Adelaide  are 
both  to  bring  out  this  winter,  and  how  can  I  possibly 
do  you  justice  with  a  dying  girl  upon  my  hands  ? " 

"  I  thought  you  suspected  it  was  all  a  trick,"  con- 
tinued the  persecuting  Lady  Emily. 

"So  I  do ;  I  haven't  the  least  doubt  of  it.  The 
whole  story  is  the  most  improbable  stuff  I  over 
heard." 


MARRIAGE.  301 

"  Then  you  will  have  less  trouble  than  you 
expect," 

"  But  I  hate  to  be  made  a  dupe  of,  and  imposed 
upon  by  low  cunning.  If  Mrs.  Douglas  had  told  me 
candidly  she  wished  me  to  take  the  girl,  I  would  have 
thought  nothing  of  it ;  but  I  can't  bear  to  be  treated 
like  a  fool." 

"  I  don't  see  anything  at  all  unbecoming  in  Mrs. 
Douglas's  treatment." 

"  Then  what  can  I  do  with  a  girl  who  has  been 
educated  in  Scotland?  She  must  be  vulgar — all 
Scotchwomen  are  so.  They  have  red  hands  and 
rough  voices ;  they  j'awn,  and  blow  their  noses,  and 
talk,  and  laugh  loud,  and  do  a  thousand  shocking 
things.  Then,  to  hear  the  Scotch  brogue — oh, 
heavens !  I  should  expire  every  time  she  opened  her 
mouth ! " 

"Perhaps  my  sister  may  not  speak  so  very  broad," 
kindly  suggested  Adelaide  in  her  sweetest  accents. 

"You  are  very  good,  my  love,  to  think  so;  but 
nobody  can  live  in  that  odious  country  Avithout  being 
infected  with  its  patois.  I  really  thought  I  should 
have  caught  it  myself ;  and  Mr.  Douglas  "  (no  longer 
Henry)  "became  quite  gross  in  his  language  after 
living  amongst  his  relations." 

"This  is  really  too  bad,"  cried  Lady  Emily  indig- 
nantly. "If  a  person  spealis  sense  and  truth,  what 
does  it  signify  how  it  is  spoken  1  And  whether  your 
Ladyship  chooses  to  receive  your  daughter  here  or 
not,   I   shall   at   any  rate   invite  my  cousin   to   my 


302  MARRIAGE. 

father's  house."  And,  snatching  up  a  pen,  she  in- 
stantly began  a  letter  to  Mary. 

Lady  Juliana  was  highly  incensed  at  this  freedom 
of  her  niece ;  but  she  was  a  little  afraid  of  her,  and 
therefore,  after  some  sharp  altercation,  and  with  in- 
finite violence  done  to  her  feelings,  she  was  prevailed 
upon  to  write  a  decently  civil  sort  of  a  letter  to  Mrs, 
Douglas,  consenting  to  receive  her  daughter  for  a  feio 
moaths ;  firmly  resolving  in  her  own  mind  to  conceal 
her  from  all  eyes  and  ears  while  she  remained,  and  to 
return  her  to  her  Scotch  relations  early  in  the  summer. 

This  worthy  resolution  formed,  she  became  more 
serene  and  awaited  the  arrival  of  her  daughter 
with  as  much  firmness  as  could  reasonably  have  been 
expected. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

"  And  for  uufelt  imrginations 
They  often  feel  a  world  of  restless  cares. " 

Shakespearr. 

Little  weened  the  good  ladies  of  Glenfern  the  un- 
gracious reception  their  proUgie  was  likely  to  experi- 
ence from  her  mother ;  for,  in  spite  of  the  defects  of 
her  education,  Mary  was  a  general  favourite  in  the 
family;  and  however  they  might  solace  themselves 
by  depreciating  her  to  Mrs.  Douglas,  to  the  world  in 
general,  and  their  young  female  acquaintances  in  par- 
ticular, she  was  upheld  as  an  epitome  of  every  perfec- 
tion above  and  below  the  sun.  Had  it  been  possible 
for  them  to  conceive  that  Mary  could  have  been  re- 
ceived with  anything  short  of  rapture,  Lady  Juliana's 
letter  might  in  some  measure  have  opened  the  eyes 
of  their  understanding ;  but  to  the  guileless  sisters  it 
seemed  everything  that  was  proper.  Sorry  for  the 
necessity  Mrs.  Douglas  felt  under  of  parting  \nih.  her 
adopted  daughter,  was  "prettily  expressed;"  had  no 
doubt  it  was  merely  a  slight  nervous  affection,  "  was 
kind  and  soothing;"  and  the  assurance,  more  than 
once  repeated,  that  her  friends  might  rely  upon  her 
being  returned  to  them  in  the  course  of  a  very  few 


304  MARRIAGE. 

montlis,  "showed  a  great  deal  of  feeling  and  con- 
sideration." But  as  their  minds  never  maintained  a 
just  equilibrium  long  upon  any  subject,  but,  like  falsely- 
adjusted  scales,  were  ever  hovering  and  vibrating  at 
either  extreme,  so  they  could  not  rest  satisfied  in  the 
belief  that  Mary  was  to  be  happy;  there  must  be 
something  to  counteract  that  stilling  sentiment ;  and 
that  was  the  apprehension  that  Mary  would  be  spoilt. 
This,  for  the  present,  was  the  pendulum  of  their 
imaginations. 

"I  declare,  Mary,  my  sisters  and  I  could  get  no 
sleep  last  night  for  thinking  of  you,"  said  Miss  Grizzy ; 
"  we  are  all  certain  that  Lady  Juliana  especially,  but 
indeed  all  your  English  relations,  will  think  so  much 
of  you — from  not  knowing  you,  you  know — which 
will  be  quite  natural.  I'm  sure  that  my  sisters  and  I 
have  taken  it  into  our  heads — but  I  hope  it  won't  be 
the  case,  as  you  have  a  great  deal  of  good  sense  of 
your  own — that  they  will  quite  turn  your  head," 

"Mary's  head  is  on  her  shoulders  to  little  purpose," 
followed  up  Miss  Jacky,  "if  she  can't  stand  being 
made  of  when  she  goes  amongst  strangers ;  and  she 
ought  to  know  by  this  time  that  a  mother's  partiality 
is  no  proof  of  a  child's  merit." 

"  You  hear  that,  Mary,"  rejoined  Miss  Grizzy;  "  so 
I'm  sure  I  hope  you  won't  mind  a  word  that  your 
mother  says  to  you,  I  mean  about  yourself;  for  of 
course  you  know  she  can't  be  such  a  good  judge  of 
you  as  us,  who  have  known  you  all  your  life.  As  to 
other  things,   I  daresay  she  is  very  well   informed 


MAERIAGE.  305 

about  the  country,  and  politics,  and  these  sort  of 
things — I'm  certain  Lady  Juliana  knoAvs  a  great  deal." 

"And  I  hope,  Mary,  j'ou  wdll  take  care  and  not 
get  into  the  daadlin'  handless  ways  of  the  English 
women,"  said  Miss  Nicky  ;  "  I  wouldn't  give  a  pin  for 
an  Englishwoman." 

"  And  I  hope  you  will  never  look  at  an  English- 
man, Mary,"  said  Miss  Grizzy,  with  equal  earnestness; 
"take  my  word  for  it  they  are  a  very  dissipated, 
unprincipled  set.  They  all  drink,  and  game,  and 
keep  race-horses ;  and  many  of  them,  I'm  told,  even 
keep  plaj'-actresses ;  so  you  may  think  what  it  would 
be  for  all  of  us  if  you  were  to  marry  any  of  them," — 
and  tears  streamed  from  the  good  spinster's  eyes  at 
the  bare  supposition  of  such  a  calamity. 

"Don't  be  afraid,  my  dear  aunt,"  said  Mary,  with 
a  kind  caress ;  "  I  shall  come  back  to  you  your  own 
'Highland  Mary.'  No  Englishman  with  his  round  face 
and  trim  meadows  shall  ever  captivate  me.  Heath- 
covered  hills  and  high  cheek-bones  are  the  charms  that 
must  win  my  heart." 

"I'm  delighted  to  hear  you  say  so,  my  dear  Mary," 
said  the  literal-minded  Grizzy.  "Certainly  nothing 
can  be  prettier  than  the  heather  when  it's  in  flower ; 
and  there  is  something  very  manly — nobody  can  dis- 
pute that — in  high  cheek-bones ;  and  besides,  to  tell 
you  a  secret.  Lady  Maclaughlan  has  a  husband  in  her 
eye  for  j'ou.  We  none  of  us  can  conceive  who  it  is, 
but  of  course  he  must  be  suitable  in  every  respect;  for 
you  know  Lady  Maclaughlan  has  had  three  husbands 

VOL.  I.  X  M 


306  MARKIAGK 

herself ;  so  of  course  she  must  be  an  excellent  judge 
of  a  good  husband." 

"Or  a  bad  one,"  said  Mary,  "which  is  the  same 
thing.     Warning  is  as  good  as  example." 

Mrs.  Douglas's  ideas  and  those  of  her  aunts  did  not 
coincide  upon  this  occasion  more  than  upon  most  others. 
In  her  sister-in-law's  letter  she  flattered  herself  she  saw 
only  fashionable  indifference ;  and  she  fondly  hoped 
that  would  soon  give  way  to  a  tenderer  sentiment,  as 
her  daughter  became  known  to  her.  At  any  rate  it 
was  proper  that  Mary  should  make  the  trial,  and 
whichever  way  it  ended,  it  must  be  for  her  advantage, 

"  Mary  has  already  lived  too  long  in  these  moun- 
tain solitudes,"  thought  she;  "her  ideas  will  become 
romantic,  and  her  taste  fastidious.  If  it  is  dangerous 
to  be  too  early  initiated  into  the  ways  of  the  world, 
it  is  perhaps  equally  so  to  live  too  long  secluded  from 
it.  Should  she  make  herself  a  place  in  the  heart  of 
her  mother  and  sister  it  will  be  so  much  happiness 
gained;  and  should  it  prove  otherwise,  it  will  be  a 
lesson  learnt — a  hard  one  indeed  !  but  hard  are  the 
lessons  we  must  all  learn  in  the  school  of  life  !"  Yet 
Mrs.  Douglas's  fortitude  almost  failed  her  as  the 
period  of  separation  approached. 

It  had  been  arranged  by  Lady  Emily  that  a  carriage 
and  servants  should  meet  Mary  at  Edinburgh,  whither 
Mr.  Douglas  was  to  convey  her.  The  cruel  moment 
came;  and  mother,  sister,  relations,  friends, — all  the 
bright  visions  which  Mary's  sanguine  spirit  had  con- 
jured up  to  soften  the  parting  pang,  all  were  absorbed 


MARRIAGE.  307 

in  one  agonising  feeling,  one  overwhelming  thought. 
Oh,  who  that  for  the  first  time  has  parted  from  the 
parent  whose  tenderness  and  love  were  entwined  with 
our  earliest  recollections,  whose  sympathy  had  soothed 
our  infant  sufferings,  whose  fondness  had  brightened 
our  infant  felicity ; — who  that  has  a  heart,  but  must 
have  felt  it  sink  beneath  the  anguish  of  a  first  fare- 
well !  Yet  bitterer  still  must  be  the  feelings  of  the 
parent  upon  committing  the  cherished  object  of  their 
cares  and  affections  to  the  stormy  ocean  of  life. 
When  experience  points  to  the  gathering  cloud  and 
rising  surge  which  soon  ma}^  assail  their  defenceless 
child,  what  can  sujjport  the  mother's  heart  but  trust 
in  Him  whose  eye  slumbereth  not,  and  whose  power 
extendeth  over  all  ?  It  was  this  pious  hope,  this  holy 
confidence,  that  enabled  this  more  than  mother  to 
part  from  her  adopted  child  with  a  resignation  which 
no  earthly  motive  could  have  imparted  to  her  mind. 
It  seems  almost  profanation  to  mingle  with  her  ele- 
vated feelings  the  coarse  yet  simple  sorrows  of  the 
aunts,  old  and  young,  as  they  clung  around  the  nearly 
lifeless  IMar}^,  each  tendering  the  parting  gift  they  had 
kept  as  a  solace  for  the  last. 

Poor  ^liss  Grizzy  was  more  than  usually  incoherent, 
as  she  displayed  "  a  nice  new  umbrella  that  could  be 
turned  into  a  nice  walking-stick,  or  anything ;"  and  a 
dressing-box,  with  a  little  of  everything  in  it ;  and, 
with  a  fresh  burst  of  tears,  l^Jary  was  directed  where 
she  would  not  find  ej'c-ointnient,  and  where  she  was 
not  to  look  for  sticking-plaister. 


308  MARRIAGE. 

Miss  Jacky  was  more  composed  as  she  presented  a 
flaming  copy  of  Fordyce's  Sermons  to  Young  Women, 
with  a  few  suitable  observations;  but  Miss  Nicky  could 
scarcely  find  voice  to  tell  that  the  housewife  she  now 
tendered  had  once  been  Lady  Girnachgowl's,  and  that 
it  contained  Whitechapel  needles  of  every  size  and 
number.  The  younger  ladies  had  clubbed  for  the 
purchase  of  a  large  locket,  in  which  was  enshrined  a 
lock  from  each  subscriber,  tastefully  arranged  by  the 

jeweller,  in  the  form  of  a  wheat  sheaf  upon  a 

blue  ground.  Even  old  Donald  had  his  offering,  and, 
as  he  stood  tottering  at  the  chaise  door,  he  contrived 
to  get  a  "  bit  snishin  mull "  laid  on  Mary's  lap,  with  a 
"  God  bless  her  bonny  face,  an'  may  she  ne'er  want  a 
good  sneesh ! " 

The  carriage  drove  off,  and  for  a  while  Mary's 
eyes  were  closed  in  despair. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

•'  Farewell  to  the  mountains,  high  covered  with  snow ; 
Farewell  to  the  straths,  and  green  valleys  below ; 
Farewell  to  the  forests,  and  wild  hanging  woods, 
Farewell  to  the  torrents,  and  loud  roaring  floods  ! " 

Scotch  Song. 

Happily  in  the  moral  world  as  in  the  material  one  the 
warring  elements  have  their  prescribed  boinids,  and 
"the  flood  of  grief  decreaseth  when  it  can  swell  no 
higher;"  hut  it  is  only  b}'  retrospection  we  can  bring 
ourselves  to  believe  in  this  obvious  truth.  The  young 
and  untried  heart  hugs  itself  in  the  bitterness  of  its 
emotions,  and  takes  a  pride  in  believing  that  its 
anguish  can  end  but  with  its  existence ;  and  it  is  not 
till  time  hath  almost  steeped  our  senses  in  forgctful- 
ness  that  Ave  discover  the  mutability  of  all  human 
passions. 

But  Mary  left  it  not  to  the  slow  hand  of  time  to 
subdue  in  some  measure  the  grief  that  swelled  her 
heart.  Had  she  given  way  to  selfishness,  she  would 
have  sought  the  free  indulgence  of  her  sorrow  as  the 
only  mitigation  of  it ;  but  she  felt  also  for  her  uncle. 
He  was  depressed  at  parting  with  his  wife  and  child, 
and  he  Avas  taking  a  long  and  dreary  journey  entirely 


310  MAKKIAGE. 

upon  her  account.  Could  she  therefore  be  so  selfish 
as  to  add  to  his  uneasiness  by  a  display  of  her  suffer- 
ings ?  No — she  would  strive  to  conceal  it  from  his 
observation,  though  to  overcome  it  was  impossible. 
Her  feelings  must  ever  remain  the  same,  but  she  would 
confine  them  to  her  own  breast;  and  she  began  to 
converse  with  and  even  strove  to  amuse,  her  kind- 
hearted  companion.  Ever  and  anon  indeed-  a  rush  of 
tender  recollections  came  across  her  mind,  and  the 
soft  voice  and  the  bland  countenance  of  her  maternal 
friend  seemed  for  a  moment  present  to  her  senses ; 
and  then  the  dreariness  and  desolation  that  succeeded 
as  the  delusion  vanished,  and  all  was  stillness  and 
vacuity  !  Even  self-reproach  shot  its  piercing  sting 
into  her  ingenuous  heart;  levities  on  which,  in  her 
usual  gaiety  of  spirit,  she  had  never  bestowed  a 
thought,  now  aj^peared  to  her  as  crimes  of  the  deepest 
dye.  She  thought  how  often  she  had  slighted  the 
counsels  and  neglected  the  wishes  of  her  gentle  moni- 
tress ;  how  she  had  wearied  of  her  good  old  aunts, 
their  cracked  voices,  and  the  everlasting  tic-a-tic  of 
their  knitting  needles ;  how  coarse  and  vulgar  she 
had  sometimes  deemed  the  younger  ones ;  hoAV  she 
had  mimicked  Lady  Maclaughlan,  and  caricatured 
Sir  Sampson,  and  "  even  poor  dear  old  Donald,"  said 
she,  as  she  summed  up  the  catalogue  of  her  crimes, 
"  could  not  escape  my  insolence  and  ill-nature.  How 
clever  I  thought  it  to  sing  '  Hand  awa  frae  me,  Donald,' 
and  how  affectedly  I  shuddered  at  everything  he 
touched;"    and  the    "sneeshin  mull"  was  bedewed 


MARPJAGE.  311 

with  tears  of  affectionate  contrition.  But  every  pain- 
ful sentiment  was  for  a  while  suspended  in  admiration 
of  the  magnificent  scenery  that  was  spread  around 
them.  Though  summer  had  fled,  and  few  even  of 
autumn's  graces  remained,  yet  over  the  august  features 
of  mountain  scener}'^  the  seasons  have  little  control. 
Their  charms  depend  not  upon  richness  of  verdure,  or 
luxuriance  of  foHage,  or  any  of  the  mere  prettinesses 
of  nature ;  but  whether  wrapped  in  snow,  or  veiled 
in  mist,  or  glowing  in  sunshine,  their  lonely  grandeur 
remains  the  same  :  and  the  same  feelings  fill  and 
elevate  the  soul  in  contemplating  these  mighty  works 
of  an  Almighty  hand.  The  eye  is  never  Aveary  in 
watching  the  thousand  varieties  of  light  and  shade, 
as  they  flit  over  the  mountain  and  gleam  upon  the 
lake ;  and  the  ear  is  satisfied  with,  the  awful  stillness 
of  nature  in  her  solitude. 

Others  besides  Mary  seemed  to  have  taken  a  fanci- 
ful pleasure  in  combining  the  ideas  of  the  mental  and 
elemental  world,  for  in  the  dreary  dwelling  where  they 
were  destined  to  pass  the  night  she  found  inscribed 
the  following  lines  : — 


"  The  busy  -winds  war  mid  the  waving  houghs, 
And  darkly  rolls  the  heaving  siii'ge  to  land  ; 
Among  the  Hying  clouds  the  moonbeam  glows 
Witb  colours  foreign  to  its  softness  bland. 

"  Here,  one  dark  shadow  melts,  in  gloom  profound, 
The  towering  Alps — the  guardians  of  the  Lake  ; 
There,  one  bright  gleam  sheds  sih'Br  light  around, 
And  shows  the  thrcat"ning  strife  that  tempests  wake. 


312  MAKPJAGE. 

"  Thus  o'er  my  mind  a  busy  memory  plays, 

That  shakes  the  feelings  to  their  inmost  core  ; 
Thus  beams  the  light  of  Hope's  fallacious  raj's, 
When  simple  confidence  can  trust  no  more. 

"  So  one  dark  shadow  shrouds  each  bygone  hour, 
So  one  bright  gleam  the  coming  tempest  shows  ; 
That  tells  of  sorrows,  which,  though  past,  still  lower, 
And  this  reveals  th'  approach  of  future  woes." 

While  Mary  was  trying  to  decipher  these  somewhat 
mystic  lines,  her  uncle  was  carrying  on  a  colloquy  in 
Gaelic  with  their  hostess.  The  consequences  of  the 
consultation  were  not  of  the  choicest  description,  con- 
sisting of  braxy  ^  mutton,  raw  potatoes,  wet  bannocks, 
hard  cheese,  and  whisky.  Very  differently  would  the 
travellers  have  fared  had  the  good  Nicky's  intentions 
been  fulfilled.  She  had  prepared  with  her  own  hands 
a  moorfowl  pie  and  potted  nowt's  head,  besides  a  pro- 
fusion of  what  she  termed  "trifles,  just  for  Mary, 
poor  thing,  to  divert  herself  with  upon  the  road." 
But  alas !  in  the  anguish  of  separation,  the  covered 
basket  had  been  forgot,  and  the  labour  of  Miss  Nicky's 
hands  fell  to  be  consumed  by  the  family,  though  Miss 
Grizzy  protested,  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  "  that  it  went 
to  her  heart  like  a  knife  to  eat  poor  Mary's  puffs  and 
snaps." 

Change  of  air  and  variety  of  scene  failed  not  to 
produce  the  happiest  effects  upon  Mary's  languid 
frame  and  drooping  spirits.  Her  cheek  already 
glowed  with  health,  and  was  sometimes  dimpled  with 
smiles.      She  still  wept,  indeed,  as  she  thought  of 

'  Sheep  that  have  died  a  natural  death  and  been  salted. 


MARRIAGE.  313 

those  she  had  left ;  but  often,  while  the  tear  trembled 
in  her  eye,  its  course  was  arrested  by  wonder,  or 
admiration,  or  delight ;  for  every  object  had  its  charms 
for  her.  Her  cultivated  taste  and  unsophisticated 
mind  could  descry  beauty  in  the  form  of  a  hill,  and 
grandeur  in  the  foam  of  the  wave,  and  elegance  in 
the  weeping  birch,  as  it  dipped  its  now  almost  leafless 
boughs  in  the  mountain  stream.  These  simple  plea- 
sures, unknown  alike  to  the  sordid  mind  and  vitiated 
taste,  are  ever  exquisitely  enjoyed  by  the  refined  yet 
unsophisticated  child  of  nature. 


CHAPTER  XXXIL 

"  Her  native  sense  improved  by  reading, 
Her  native  sweetness  by  good  breeding." 

During  their  progress  through  the  Highlands  the 
travellers  were  hospitably  entertained  at  the  mansions 
of  the  country  gentlemen,  where  old-fashioned  courtesy 
and  modern  comfort  combined  to  cheer  the  stranger 
guest.  But  upon  coming  out,  as  it  is  significantly  ex- 
pressed by  the  natives  of  these  mountain  regions,  viz. 
entering  the  low  country,  they  found  they  had  only 
made  a  change  of  difficulties.  In  the  Highlands  they 
were  always  sure  that  wherever  there  was  a  house 
that  house  would  be  to  them  a  home ;  but  on  a  fair- 
day  in  the  little  town  of  G they  found  themselves 

in  the  midst  of  houses,  and  surrounded  by  people,  yet 
unable  to  procure  rest  or  shelter. 

At  the  only  inn  the  place  afforded  they  were  in- 
formed "  the  horses  were  baith  oot,  an'  the  ludgin'  a' 
tane  up,  an'  mair  tu ;"  while  the  driver  asserted,  what 
indeed  was  apparent,  "  that  his  beasts  war  nae  fit  to 
gang  the  length  o'  their  tae  farrer — no  for  the  king 
himsel'." 

At  this  moment  a  stout,  florid,  good-humoured- 
looking  man  passed,  whistling  "  Roy's  Wife  "  with  all 


MAIUIIAGE.  315 

his  heart ;  and  just  as  Mr.  Douglas  was  stepping  ouv 
of  the  carriage  to  try  what  could  be  done,  the  same 
person,  evidently  attracted  by  curiosity,  repassed, 
changing  his  tune  to  "There's  cauld  kail  in  Aberdeen." 

He  started  at  sight  of  Mr.  Douglas ;  then  eagerly 
grasping  his  hand,  "Ah  !  Archie  Douglas,  is  this  you?" 
exclaimed  he  with  a  loud  laugh  and  hearty  shake. 
"  What !  you  haven't  forgot  your  old  schoolfellow 
BobGawffawr' 

A  mutual  recognition  now  took  place,  and  much 
pleasure  was  manifested  on  both  sides  at  this  unex- 
pected rencontre.  No  time  was  allowed  to  explain 
their  embarrassments,  for  Mr.  GavnTaw  had  already 
tipped  the  post-boy  the  wink  (which  he  seemed  easily 
to  comprehend) ;  and  forcing  Mr.  Douglas  to  resume 
his  seat  in  the  carriage,  he  jumped  in  himself. 

"  Now  for  Howfiend  and  Mrs.  Gawtfaw  !  ha,  ha, 
ha !  This  will  be  a  surprise  upon  her.  She  thinks 
I'm  in  my  barn  all  this  time — ha,  ha,  ha  ! " 

Mr.  Douglas  here  began  to  express  his  astonishment 
at  his  friend's  precipitation,  and  his  apprehensions  as 
to  the  trouble  they  might  occasion  Mrs.  Gawffaw ;  but 
bursts  of  laughter  and  broken  expressions  of  delight 
were  the  only  replies  he  could  procure  from  his  friend. 

After  jolting  over  half  a  mile  of  very  bad  road,  the 
carriage  stopped  at  a  mean  vulgar-looking  mansion, 
with  dirty  Avindows,  ruinous  thatched  offices,  and 
broken  fences. 

Such  was  the  picture  of  still  life.  That  of  animated 
nature  was  not  less  picturesque.     Cows  bellowed,  and 


316  MARRIAGE. 

cart-horses  neighed,  and  pigs  grunted,  and  geese 
gabbled,  and  ducks  quacked,  and  cocks  and  hens 
flapped  and  fluttered  promiscuously,  as  they  mingled 
in  a  sort  of  yard  divided  from  the  house  by  a  low 
dyke,  possessing  the  accommodation  of  a  crazy  gate, 
which  was  bestrode  by  a  parcel  of  bare-legged  boys. 

"What  are  you  about,  you  confounded  rascals  1" 
called  Mr.  GawfFaw  to  them. 

"Naething,"  answered  one. 

"We're  just  takin'  a  heize  on  the  yett,"  answered 
another. 

"  I'll  heize  ye,  ye  scoundrels  ! "  exclaimed  the  in- 
censed Mr.  GawfFaw,  as  he  burst  from  the  carriage ; 
and,  snatching  the  driver's  whip  from  his  hand,  flew 
after  the  more  nimble-footed  culprits. 

Finding  his  efforts  to  overtake  them  in  vain,  he 
returned  to  the  door  of  his  mansion,  where  stood  his 
guests,  waiting  to  be  ushered  in.  He  oj^ened  the  door 
himself,  and  led  the  way  to  a  parlour  which  was  quite 
of  a  piece  with  the  exterior  of  the  dwelling.  A  dim 
dusty  table  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  floor,  heaped 
with  a  variety  of  heterogeneous  articles  of  dress ;  an 
exceeding  dirty  volume  of  a  novel  lay  open  amongst 
them.  The  floor  was  littered  with  shapings  of  flannel, 
and  shreds  of  gauzes,  ribbons,  etc.  The  fire  was 
almost  out,  and  the  hearth  Avas  covered  with  ashes. 

After  insisting  upon  his  guests  being  seated,  Mr. 
Gawffaw  walked  to  the  door  of  the  apartment,  and 
hallooed  out,  "Mrs.  Gawffaw, — ho!  May,  my  dear ! 
—I  say,  Mrs.  Gawffaw  !  " 


MARRIAGE.  317 

A  low,  croaking,  querulous  voice  was  now  heard  in 
reply,  "For  heaven's  sake,  Mr.  GawfFaw,  make  less 
noise  !  For  God's  sake,  have  mercy  on  the  walls  of 
your  house,  if  you've  none  on  my  poor  head  !  "  And 
thereupon  entered  Mrs.  Gawffaw,  a  cap  in  one  hand, 
which  she  appeared  to  have  been  tying  on — a  smell- 
ing-bottle in  the  other. 

She  possessed  a  considerable  share  of  insipid  and 
somewhat  faded  beauty,  but  disguised  by  a  tawdry 
trumpery  style  of  dress,  and  rendered  almost  disgust- 
ing by  the  air  of  affectation,  folly,  and  peevishness 
that  overspread  her  whole  person  and  deportment. 
She  testified  the  utmost  surprise  and  coldness  at  sight 
of  her  guests ;  and,  as  she  entered,  Mr.  Gawftaw 
rushed  out,  having  descried  something  passing  in 
the  yard  that  called  for  his  interposition.  Mr.  Douglas 
was  therefore  under  the  necessity  of  introducing  him- 
self and  Mary  to  their  ungracious  hostess ;  briefly 
stating  the  circumstances  that  had  led  them  to  be  her 
guests,  and  dwelling,  with  much  warmth,  on  the  kind- 
ness and  hospitality  of  her  husband  in  having  relieved 
them  from  their  embarrassment.  A  gracious  smile, 
or  what  was  intended  as  such,  beamed  over  Mrs. 
Gawffaw's  face  at  first  mention  of  their  names. 

"Excuse  me,  Mr.  Douglas,"  said  she,  making  a 
profound  reverence  to  him,  and  another  to  Mary, 
while  she  waved  her  hand  for  them  to  be  seated. 
"  Excuse  me,  Miss  Douglas ;  but  situated  as  I  am,  I 
find  it  necessary  to  be  very  distant  to  j\Ir.  Gawfl'aw's 
friends  sometimes.      He  is  a  thouglitless  man,  Mr. 


318  MARKIAGK 

Douglas — a  very  thoughtless  man.  He  makes  a 
perfect  inn  of  his  house.  He  never  lies  out  of  the 
town,  trying  who  he  can  pick  up  and  bring  home 
with  him.  It  is  seldom  I  am  so  fortunate  as  to  see 
such  guests  as  Mr.  and  Miss  Douglas  of  Glenfern 
Castle  in  my  house,"  with  an  elegant  bow  to  each, 
which  of  course  was  duly  returned.  "  But  Mr. 
GawfFaw  would  have  shown  more  consideration,  both 
for  you  and  me,  had  he  apprised  me  of  the  honour 
of  your  visit,  instead  of  bringing  you  here  in  this  ill- 
bred,  unceremonious  manner.  As  for  me,  1  am  too 
well  accustomed  to  him  to  be  hurt  at  these  things 
now.  He  has  kept  me  in  hot  water,  I  may  say,  since 
the  day  I  married  him  !  " 

In  spite  of  the  conciliatory  manner  in  which 
this  agreeable  address  was  made,  Mr.  Douglas  felt 
considerably  disconcerted,  and  again  renewed  his 
apologies,  adding  something  about  hopes  of  being 
able  to  proceed. 

"Make  no  apologies,  my  dear  sir,"  said  the  lady, 
with  what  she  deemed  a  most  bewitching  manner, 
"it  affords  me  the  greatest  pleasure  to  see  any  of 
your  family  under  my  roof.  I  meant  no  reflection  on 
you  ;  it  is  entirely  Mr.  Gawffaw  that  is  to  blame,  in 
not  having  apprised  me  of  the  honour  of  this  visit, 
that  I  might  not  have  been  caught  in  this  deshabille ; 
but  I  was  really  so  engaged  by  my  studies — "  pointing 
to  the  dirty  novel — "  that  I  was  quite  unconscious  of 
the  lapse  of  time."  The  guests  felt  more  and  more 
at  a  loss  what  to  say ;  but  the  lady  was  at  none. 


MARRIAGE.  319 

Seeing  Mr.  Douglas  still  standing  AWth  his  hat  in  his 
hand,  and  his  eye  directed  towards  the  door,  she  re- 
sumed her  discourse. 

"  Pray  be  seated,  Mr.  Douglas ;  I  beg  you  will  sit 
off  the  door.  Miss  Douglas,  I  entreat  you  will  walk 
into  the  fire ;  I  hope  you  Avill  consider  yourself  as 
quite  at  home" — another  elegant  bend  to  each.  "I 
only  regret  that  Mr.  Gawffaw's  folly  and  ill-breeding 
should  have  brought  you  into  this  disagreeable  situa- 
tion, Mr.  Douglas.  He  is  a  well-meaning  man,  Mr. 
Douglas,  and  a  good-hearted  man ;  but  he  is  very 
deficient  in  other  respects,  Mr.  Douglas." 

Mr.  Douglas,  happy  to  find  anything  to  which  he 
could  assent,  warmly  joined  in  the  eulogium  on  the 
excellence  of  his  friend's  heart.  It  did  not  appear, 
however,  to  give  the  satisfaction  he  expected.  The 
lady  resumed  with  a  sigh,  "Noboby  can  know  Mr. 
GawffaAv's  heart  better  than  I  do,  Mr.  Douglas.  It  is 
a  good  one,  but  it  is  far  from  being  an  elegant  one ; 
it  is  one  in  which  I  find  no  congeniality  of  sentiment 
with  my  own.  Indeed,  Mr.  Gawff'aw  is  no  companion 
for  me,  nor  I  for  him,  Mr.  Douglas  ;  he  is  never  happy 
in  my  society,  and  I  really  believe  he  would  rather  sit 
down  with  the  tinklers  on  the  roadside  as  spend  a 
day  in  my  company." 

A  deep  sigh  followed ;  but  its  pathos  was  drowned 
in  the  obstreperous  ha,  ha,  ha !  of  her  joyous  help- 
mate, as  he  bounced  into  the  room,  wiping  his  fore- 
head 

"  Why,  May,  my  dear,  what  have  you  been  about 


320  MARRIAGE. 

to-day  1  Things  have  been  all  going  to  the  deuce. 
Why  didn't  you  hinder  these  boys  from  sweein'  the 
gate  off  its  hinges,  and " 

"  Me  hinder  boys  from  sweein'  gates,  Mr.  Gawffaw ! 
Do  I  look  like  as  if  I  was  capable  of  hindering  boys 
from  sweein'  gates,  Miss  Douglas?" 

"  Well,  my  dear,  you  ought  to  look  after  your  pigs 
a  little  better.  That  jade,  black  Jess,  has  trod  a 
parcel  of  them  to  death,  ha,  ha,  ha !  and " 

"  Me  look  after  pigs,  Mr.  Gawffaw  !  I  am  really 
astonished  at  you  ! "  again  interrupted  the  lady,  turn- 
ing pale  with  vexation.  Then,  with  an  affected  giggle, 
appealing  to  Mary,  "I  leave  you  to  judge.  Miss 
Douglas,  if  I  look  like  a  person  made  for  running 
after  pigs  ! " 

"Indeed,"  thought  Mary,  "you  don't  look  like  as 
if  you  could  do  anything  half  so  useful." 

*'  Well,  never  mind  the  pigs,  my  dear ;  only  don't 
give  us  any  of  them  for  dinner — ha,  ha,  ha ! — and, 
May,  when  will  you  let  us  have  if?" 

"  Me  let  you  have  it,  Mr.  Gawffaw !  I'm  sure  I 
don't  hinder  you  from  having  it  when  you  please, 
only  you  know  I  prefer  late  hours  myself.  I  was 
always  accustomed  to  them  in  my  poor  father's  life- 
time. He  never  dined  before  four  o'clock ;  and  I 
seldom  knew  what  it  was  to  be  in  my  bed  before 
twelve  o'clock  at  night,  Miss  Douglas,  till  I  married 
Mr.  Gawffaw!" 

Mary  tried  to  look  sorrowful,  to  hide  the  smile 
that  was  dimpling  her  cheek. 


MAr^RIAGE.  321 

"  Come,  let  us  have  something  to  eat  in  the  mean- 
time, my  dear." 

"  I'm  sure  you  may  eat  the  house,  if  you  please, 
for  me,  ]Mi\  Gawffaw  !  What  would  you  take,  Miss 
Douglas  1  But  pull  the  bell— softly,  Mr.  Gawffaw ! 
You  do  everything  so  violently." 

A  dirty  maid-servant,  with  bare  feet,  answered  the 
summons. 

"  Where's  Tom  ?"  demanded  the  lady,  well  knowing 
that  Tom  was  afar  off  at  some  of  the  farm  operations. 

"  I  ken  nae  whar  he's.  He'll  be  aether  at  the 
patatees,  or  the  horses,  I'se  warran.  Div  ye  want 
him?" 

"Bring  some  glasses,"  said  her  mistress,  with  an 
air  of  great  dignity.  "Mr.  Gawffaw,  you  must  see 
about  the  wine  yourself  since  you  have  sent  Tom  out 
of  the  way." 

Mr.  Gawffaw  and  his  handmaid  were  soon  heard 
in  an  adjoining  closet ;  the  one  wondering  where  the 
screw  was,  the  other  vociferating  for  a  knife  to  cut 
the  bread ;  while  the  mistress  of  this  well-regulated 
mansion  sought  to  divert  her  guests'  attention  from 
what  was  passing  by  entertaining  them  with  com- 
plaints of  Mr.  Gawffaw 's  noise  and  her  maid's  inso- 
lence till  the  parties  appeared  to  speak  for  themselves. 

After  being  refreshed  with  some  very  bad  wine 
and  old  baked  bread,  the  gentlemen  set  off  on  a 
survey  of  the  farm,  and  the  ladies  repaired  to  their 
toilets.  Mary's  simple  dress  was  quickly  adjusted ; 
and  upon  descending  she  found  her  uncle  alone  in 
VOL.  I.  Y  M 


322  MARRIAGE. 

what  Mrs.  Gawffaw  had  shown  to  her  as  the  drawing- 
room.  He  guessed  her  curiosity  to  know  something 
of  her  hosts,  and  therefore  briefly  informed  her  that 
Mrs.  GawfFaw  was  the  daughter  of  a  trader  in  some 
manufacturing  town,  who  had  hved  in  opulence  and 
died  insolvent.  During  his  life  his  daughter  had 
eloped  with  Bob  Gawffaw,  then  a  gay  lieutenant  in  a 
marching  regiment,  who  had  been  esteemed  a  very 
lucky  fellow  in  getting  the  pretty  Miss  Croaker,  with 
the  prospect  of  ten  thousand  pounds.  None  thought 
more  highly  of  her  husband's  good  fortune  than  the 
lady  herself ;  and  though  her  fortune  never  was 
realised,  she  gave  herself  all  the  airs  of  having  been 
the  making  of  his.  At  this  time  Mr.  Gawffaw  was 
a  reduced  lieutenant,  living  upon  a  small  paternal 
property,  which  he  pretended  to  farm  ;  but  the  habits 
of  a  military  life,  joined  to  a  naturally  social  disposi- 
tion, were  rather  inimical  to  the  pursuits  of  agri- 
culture, and  most  of  his  time  was  spent  in  loitering 
about  the  village  of  G ,  where  he  generally  con- 
tinued either  to  pick  up  a  guest  or  procure  a  dinner. 

Mrs.  GawffaAV  despised  her  husband  ;  had  weak 
nerves  and  headaches — was  above  managing  her 
house — read  novels — dj^ed  ribbons — and  altered  her 
gowns  according  to  every  pattern  she  could  see  or 
hear  of. 

Such  were  Mr.  and  Mrs.  GawfFaw — one  of  the 
many  ill-assorted  couples  in  this  world — joined,  not 
matched.  A  sensible  man  would  have  curbed  her 
folly  and  peevishness ;  a  good-tempered  woman  would 


MARRIAGE,  323 

have  made  his  home  comfortable,  and  rendered  him 
more  domestic. 

The  dinner  Avas  such  as  might  have  been  expected 
from  the  previous  specimens — bad  of  its  kind,  cold, 
ill-dressed,  and  slovenly  set  down  ;  but  ]\Irs.  GawfFaw 
seemed  satisfied  with  herself  and  it. 

"  This  is  very  fine  mutton,  Mr.  Douglas,  and  not 
underdone  to  most  people's  tastes;  and  this  fowl,  I 
have  no  doubt  will  eat  well,  Miss  Douglas,  though  it 
is  not  so  white  as  some  I  have  seen." 

"The  fowl,  my  dear,  looks  as  if  it  had  been  the 
great-grandmother  of  this  sheep,  ha,  ha,  ha ! " 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  Mr.  GawflPaw,  make  less  noise, 
or  my  head  will  split  in  a  thousand  pieces  ! "  putting 
her  hands  to  it,  as  if  to  hold  the  frail  tenement 
together.  This  was  always  her  refuge  when  at  a  loss 
for  a  reply. 

A  very  ill-concocted  pudding  next  called  forth  her 
approbation. 

"  This  pudding  should  be  good  ;  for  it  is  the  same 
I  used  to  be  so  partial  to  in  my  poor  father's  lifetime, 
when  I  was  used  to  every  delicacy.  Miss  Douglas,  that 
money  could  purchase." 

"  But  you  thought  me  the  greatest  delicacy  of  all, 
my  dear,  ha,  ha,  ha !  for  you  left  all  your  other  deli- 
cacies for  me,  ha,  ha,  ha ! — what  do  you  say  to  that, 
May?  ha,  ha,  ha!" 

May's  reply  consisted  in  putting  her  hands  to  her 
head,  with  an  air  of  inexpressible  vexation ;  and  find- 
ing all  her  endeavours  to  be  elegant  frustrated  by  the 


324  MARRIAGE. 

overpowering  vulgarity  of  her  husband,  she  remained 
silent  during  the  remainder  of  the  repast ;  solacing 
herself  wath  complacent  glances  at  her  yellow  silk 
gown,  and  adjusting  the  gold  chains  and  necklaces 
that  adorned  her  bosom. 

Poor  Mary  was  doomed  to  a  Ute-h-tUe  with  her 
during  the  whole  evening  ;  for  Mr.  GawfFaw  was  too 
happy  with  his  friend,  and  ivithont  his  wife,  to  quit 
the  dining-room  till  a  late  hour ;  and  then  he  was  so 
much  exhilarated,  that  she  could  almost  have  joined 
Mrs.  GawfFaw  in  her  exclamation  of  "  For  heaven's 
sake,  Mr.  GawfFaw,  have  mercy  on  my  head  ! " 

The  night,  however,  like  all  other  nights,  had  a 
close  ;  and  Mrs.  GawfFaw,  having  once  more  enjoyed 
the  felicity  of  finding  herself  in  company  at  twelve 
o'clock  at  night,  at  length  withdrew;  and  having 
apologised,  and  hoped,  and  feared,  for  another  hour 
in  Mary's  apartment,  she  finally  left  her  to  the  bless- 
ings of  solitude  and  repose. 

As  Mr.  Douglas  was  desirous  of  reaching  Edin- 
burgh the  following  day,  he  had,  in  spite  of  the  urgent 
remonstrances  of  his  friendly  host  and  the  elegant 
importunities  of  his  lad}-,  ordered  the  carriage  at  an 
early  hour ;  and  Mary  was  too  eager  to  quit  HowfFend 
to  keep  it  waiting.  Mr.  Gawffaw  was  in  readiness  to 
hand  her  in,  but  fortunately  Mrs.  GawfFaw's  head  did 
not  permit  of  her  rising.  With  much  the  same  hearty 
laugh  that  had  welcomed  their  meeting,  honest  Ga^vf- 
faw  now  saluted  the  departure  of  his  friend ;  and  as 
he  went  whistling  over  his  gate,  he  ruminated  sweet 


MARRIAGE.  325 

and  bitter  thoughts  as  to  the  destinies  of  the  day — 
whether  he  should  solace  himself  with  a  good  dinner 
and  the  comj^any  of  Bailie  Merr3'thought  at  the  Cross 

Keys  in  G ,  or  put  up  with  cold  mutton,  and  May, 

at  home. 


CHAPTEE  XXXIIL 

"  Edina  !  Scotia's  darling  seat ! 
All  hail  thy  palaces  and  tow'i's, 
Where  once,  beneath  a  monarch's  feet, 
Sat  legislation's  sov'reign  pow'rs  !" 

Burns. 

All  Mary's  sensations  of  admiration  were  faint 
compared  to  those  she  experienced  as  she  viewed  the 
Scottish  metropolis.  It  was  associated  in  her  mind 
with  all  the  local  prepossessions  to  Avhich  youth  and 
enthusiasm  love  to  give  "  a  local  habitation  and  a 
name;"  and  visions  of  older  times  floated  o'er  her 
mind  as  she  gazed  on  its  rocky  battlements,  and  tra- 
versed the  lonely  arcades  of  its  deserted  palace. 

"And  this  was  once  a  gay  court !"  thought  she,  as 
she  listened  to  the  dreary  echo  of  her  own  footsteps ; 
"and  this  very  ground  on  which  I  now  stand  was 
trod  by  the  hapless  Mary  Stuart !  Her  eye  beheld 
the  same  objects  that  mine  now  rests  upon ;  her  hand 
has  touched  the  draperies  I  now  hold  in  mine.  These 
frail  memorials  remain  ;  bat  what  remains  of  Scot- 
land's Queen  but  a  blighted  name  !" 

Even  the  blood  -  stained  chamber  possessed  a 
nameless  charm  for  Mary's  vivid  imagination.      She 


MARRIAGE.  327 

had  not  entirely  escaped  the  superstitions  of  the 
country  in  which  she  had  lived ;  and  she  readily 
yielded  her  assent  to  the  asseverations  of  her  guide 
as  to  its  being  the  honoj  fide  blood  of  David  Bizzio, 
which  for  nearly  three  hundred  years  had  resisted 
all  human  efforts  to  efface. 

"My  credulity  is  so  harmless,"  said  she  in  answer 
to  her  uncle's  attempt  to  laugh  her  out  of  her  belief, 
"that  I  surely  may  be  permitted  to  indulge  it  — 
especially  since  I  confess  I  feel  a  sort  of  indescribable 
pleasure  in  it." 

"  You  take  a  pleasure  in  the  sight  of  blood  ! "  ex- 
claimed Mr.  Douglas  in  astonishment,  "  you  w^ho  turn 
pale  at  sight  of  a  cut  finger,  and  shudder  at  a  leg  of 
mutton  with  the  juice  in  it !" 

"  Oh!  mere  modern  vulgar  blood  is  very  shocking," 
answered  Mary,  with  a  smile;  "but  observe  how  this 
is  mellowed  by  time  into  a  tint  that  could  not  offend 
the  most  fastidious  fine  lady;  besides,"  added  she  in 
a  graver  tone,  "I  own  I  love  to  believe  in  things 
supernatural ;  it  seems  to  connect  us  more  with  another 
world  than  when  everything  is  seen  to  proceed  in  the 
mere  ordinary  course  of  nature,  as  it  is  called.  I 
cannot  bear  to  imagine  a  dreary  chasm  betwixt  the 
inhabitants  of  this  world  and  beings  of  a  higher 
sphere ;  I  love  to  fancy  myself  surrounded  by " 

"  I  wish  to  heaven  you  would  remember  you  are 
surrounded  by  rational  beings,  and  not  fall  into  such 
rhapsodies,"  said  her  uncle,  glancing  at  a  party  who 
stood  near  them,  jesting  upon  all  the  objects  which 


328  MARRIAGE. 

Mary  had  been  regarding  "with  so  much  veneration. 
"But  come,  you  haA^e  been  long  enough  here.  Let 
us  try  whether  a  breeze  on  the  Calton  Hill  will  not 
dispel  these  cobwebs  from  your  brain." 

The  daj^,  though  cold,  was  clear  and  sunny ;  and 
the  lovely  spectacle  before  them  shone  forth  in  all  its 
gay  magnificence.  The  blue  waters  lay  calm  and 
motionless.  The  opposite  shores  glowed  in  a  thousand 
varied  tints  of  wood  and  plain,  rock  and  mountain, 
cultured  field  and  purple  moor.  Beneath,  the  old 
town  reared  its  dark  brow,  and  the  new  one  stretched 
its  golden  lines ;  while  all  around  the  varied  charms 
of  nature  lay  scattered  in  that  profusion  which  nature's 
hand  alone  can  bestow. 

"Oh!  this  is  exquisite!"  exclaimed  Mary  after  a 
long  pause,  in  which  she  had  been  riveted  in  admira- 
tion of  the  scene  before  her.  "  And  you  are  in  the 
right,  my  dear  uncle.  The  ideas  which  are  inspired 
by  the  contemplation  of  such  a  spectacle  as  this  are 
far — oh,  how  far  ! — superior  to  those  excited  by  the 
mere  works  of  art.  There  I  can,  at  best,  think  but 
of  the  inferior  agents  of  Providence ;  here  the  soul 
rises  from  nature  up  to  nature's  God." 

"  Upon  my  soul,  you  will  be  taken  for  a  Methodist, 
Mary,  if  you  talk  in  this  manner,"  said  Mr.  Douglas, 
with  some  marks  of  disquiet,  as  he  turned  round  at 
the  salutation  of  a  fat  elderly  gentleman,  whom  he 
presently  recognised  as  Bailie  Broadfoot. 

The  first  salutations  over,  Mr.  Douglas's  fears  of 
Mary  having  been  overheard  recurred,  and  he  felt 


MAREIAGE.  329 

anxious  to  remove  any  unfavourable  impression  with 
regard  to  his  own  principles,  at  least,  from  the  mind 
of  the  enlightened  magistrate. 

"  Your  fine  views  here  have  set  my  niece  absolutely 
raving,"  said  he,  with  a  smile ;  "  but  I  tell  her  it  is  only 
in  romantic  minds  that  fine  scenery  inspires  romantic 
ideas.  I  daresay  many  of  the  worthy  inhabitants  of 
Edinburgh  walk  here  with  no  other  idea  than  that  of 
sharpening  their  appetites  for  dinner." 

"  Nae  doot,"  said  the  Bailie,  "  it's  a  most  capital 
place  for  that.  Were  it  no'  for  that  I  ken  nae  muckle 
use  it  would  be  of." 

*'  You  speak  from  experience  of  its  "vartues  in  that 
respect,  I  suppose  1"  said  Mr.  Douglas  gravely. 

"  'Deed,  as  to  that  I  canna  compleeu.  At  times, 
to  be  sure,  I  am  troubled  with  a  little  kind  of  a 
squeamishness  after  our  public  interteenments ;  but 
three  rounds  o'  the  hill  sets  a'  to  rights." 

Then  observing  Mary's  eyes  exjjloring,  as  he  sup- 
posed, the  toAvn  of  Leitli,  "  You  see  that  prospeck  to 
nae  advantage  the  day,  miss,"  said  he.  "  If  the  glass- 
houses had  ])een  workin',  it  would  have  looked  as  weel 
again.  Ye  hae  nae  glass-houses  in  the  Highlands ; 
na,  na." 

The  Bailie  had  a  share  in  the  concern  :  and  the 
volcanic  clouds  of  smoke  that  issued  from  thence  were 
far  more  interesting  subjects  of  speculation  to  him 
than  all  the  eruptions  of  Vesuvius  or  Etna.  But  there 
was  nothing  to  charm  the  lingering  view  to-da)- ;  and 
he  therefore  p]-()i)osed  their  taking  a  look  at  Bridewell, 


330  MARRIAGE. 

which,  next  to  the  smoke  from  the  glass-houses,  he 
reckoned  the  object  most  worthy  of  notice.  It  was 
indeed  deserving  of  the  praises  bestowed  upon  it; 
and  Mary  was  giving  her  whole  attention  to  the 
details  of  it  when  she  was  suddenly  startled  by  hear- 
ing her  own  name  wailed  in  piteous  accents  from  one 
of  the  lower  cells,  and,  upon  turning  round,  she  dis- 
covered in  the  prisoner  the  son  of  one  of  the  tenants 
of  Glenfern.  Duncan  M'Free  had  been  always  looked 
upon  as  a  very  honest  lad  in  the  Highlands,  but  he 
had  left  home  to  push  his  fortune  as  a  pedlar ;  and 
the  temptations  of  the  low  country  having  proved  too 
much  for  his  virtue,  poor  Duncan  was  now  expiating 
his  offence  in  durance  vile. 

"  I  shall  have  a  pretty  account  of  you  to  carry  to 
Glenfern,"  said  Mr.  Douglas,  regarding  the  culprit 
with  his  sternest  look. 

"  Oh  'deed,  sir,  it's  no'  my  faut !"  answered  Duncan, 
blubbering  bitterly;  "but  there's  nae  freedom  at  a' 
in  this  country.  Lord,  an'  I  war  oot  o't !  Ane  canna 
ca'  their  head  their  ain  in't ;  for  ye  canna  Hft  the 
bouk  o'  a  prin  but  they're  a'  upon  ye."  And  a  fresh 
burst  of  sorrow  ensued. 

Finding  the  peccadillo  was  of  a  venial  nature,  Mr. 
Douglas  besought  the  Bailie  to  use  his  interest  to 
procure  the  enfranchisement  of  this  his  vassal,  which 
Mr.  Broadfoot,  happy  to  oblige  a  good  customer, 
promised  should  be  obtained  on  the  following  day ; 
and  Duncan's  emotions  being  rather  clamorous,  the 
party  found  it  necessary  to  withdraw. 


MARRIAGE.  331 

"  And  noo,"  said  the  Bailie,  as  they  emerged  from 
this  place  of  dole  and  durance,  "  will  ye  step  up  to  the 
monument,  and  tak  a  rest  and  some  refreshment?" 

"  Rest  and  refreshment  in  a  monument ! "  exclaimed 
Mr.  Douglas.  "  Excuse  me,  my  good  friend,  but  we 
are  not  inclined  to  bait  there  yet  a  while." 

The  Bailie  did  not  comprehend  the  joke ;  and  he 
proceeded  in  his  own  drawling  humdrum  accent  to 
assure  them  that  the  monument  was  a  most  conveni- 
ent place. 

"It  was  erected  in  honour  of  Lord  Neilson's 
memory,"  said  he,  "  and  is  let  of?  to  a  p?.ctrycook  and 
confectioner,  where  you  can  always  find  some  trifles 
to  treat  the  ladies,  sucli  as  pies  and  custards,  and 
berries,  and  these  sort  of  things ;  but  we  passed  an 
order  in  the  cooncil  that  there  should  be  naething  of 
a  spirituous  nature  introduced ;  for  if  ance  spirits  got 
admittance  there's  no  saying  what  might  happen." 

This  was  a  fact  which  none  of  the  party  were  dis- 
posed to  dispute ;  and  the  Bailie,  triumphing  in  his 
dominion  over  the  spirits,  shuffled  on  before  to  do 
the  honours  of  this  place,  appropriated  at  one  and  the 
same  time  to  the  manes  of  a  hero  and  the  making  of 
minced  pies.  The  regale  was  admirable,  and  Mary 
could  not  help  thinking  times  were  improved,  and 
that  it  was  a  better  thing  to  eat  tarts  in  Lord  Nelson's 
Monument  than  to  have  been  poisoned  in  Julius 
Caesar's. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

"Having  a  tougue  rough  as  a  cat,  and  biting  like  an  adder, 
and  all  their  reproofs  are  direct  scoldings,  their  common  inter- 
course is  open  contumely." — Jekemy  Taylok. 

"Though  last,  not  least  of  nature's  works,  I  must 
now  introduce  you  to  a  friend  of  mine,"  said  Mr. 
Douglas,  as,  the  Bailie  having  made  his  bow,  they 
bent  their  steps  towards  the  Castle  Hill.  "Mrs. 
Violet  Macshake  is  an  aunt  of  my  mother's,  whom 
you  must  often  have  heard  of,  and  the  last  remaining 
branch  of  the  noble  race  of  Girnachgowl. " 

"I  am  afraid  she  is  rather  a  formidable  person, 
then?"  said  Mary. 

Her  uncle  hesitated.  "No,  not  formidable — only 
rather  particular,  as  all  old  people  are;  but  she  is 
very  good-heax'ted." 

"  I  understand,  in  other  words,  she  is  very  disagree- 
able. All  ill-tempered  people,  I  observe,  have  the 
character  of  being  good-hearted;  or  else  all  good 
people  are  ill-tempered,  I  can't  tell  which." 

"It  is  more  than  reputation  with  her,"  said  Mr. 
Douglas,  somewhat  angrily  :  "  for  she  is,  in  reality, 
a  very  good-hearted  woman,  as  I  experienced  when  a 
boy  at  college.     Many  a  crown  piece  and  half-guinea 


MARRIAGE.  333 

I  used  to  get  from  her.  Many  a  scold,  to  be  sure, 
went  along  with  them;  but  that,  I  daresay,  I  deserved. 
Besides,  she  is  very  rich,  and  I  am  her  reputed  heir ; 
therefore  gratitude  and  self-interest  combine  to  render 
her  extremely  amiable  in  my  estimation." 

They  had  now  reached  the  airy  dwelling  where 
Mrs.  Macshake  resided,  and  having  rung,  the  door 
was  at  length  most  dehberately  opened  by  an  ancient, 
sour-visaged,  long-waisted  female,  who  ushered  them 
into  an  apartment,  the  coup  d'oeil  of  which  struck  a 
chill  to  Mary's  heart.  It  Avas  a  good-sized  room,  Avith 
a  bare  sufficiency  of  small-legged  dining-tables,  and 
lank  haircloth  chairs,  ranged  in  high  order  round  the 
walls.  Although  the  season  was  advanced,  and  the 
air  piercing  cold,  the  grate  stood  smiling  in  all  the 
charms  of  polished  steel ;  and  the  mistress  of  the 
mansion  was  seated  by  the  side  of  it  in  an  arm-chair, 
still  in  its  summer  position.  She  appeared  to  have 
no  other  occupation  than  what  her  own  meditations 
afforded  ;  for  a  single  glance  sufficed  to  show  that  not  a 
vestige  of  book  or  work  Avas  harboured  there.  She  Avas 
a  tall,  large-boned  Avoman,  Avhom  even  Time's  iron  hand 
scarcely  bent,  as  she  merely  stooped  at  the  shoulders. 
She  had  a  drooping  snuffy  nose,  a  long  turned-up  chin, 
small  quick  gray  eyes,  and  her  face  projected  far 
beyond  her  figure,  Avith  an  expression  of  shrewd  rest- 
less curiosity.  She  wore  a  mode  (not  a-la-mode) 
bonnet,  and  cardinal  of  the  same,  a  pair  of  clogs  over 
her  shoes,  and  black  silk  niittens  on  her  arms. 

As  soon  as  she  recognised  Mr.  Douglas  she  Avel- 


334  MARKIAGE. 

corned  him  with  much  cordiality,  shook  him  long  and 
heartily  by  the  hand,  patted  him  on  the  back,  looked 
into  his  face  with  much  seeming  satisfaction ;  and,  in 
short,  gave  all  the  demonstrations  of  gladness  usual 
with  gentlewomen  of  a  certain  age.  Her  pleasure, 
however,  appeared  to  be  rather  an  impromptu  than 
an  habitual  feeling ;  for  as  the  surprise  wore  off  her 
visage  resumed  its  harsh  and  sarcastic  exjDression,  and 
she  seemed  eager  to  efface  any  agreeable  impression 
her  reception  might  have  excited. 

"An'  wha  thought  o'  seein  ye  enow?"  said  she,  in 
a  quick  gabbling  voice.  "  What's  brought  you  to  the 
toon?  Are  ye  come  to  spend  your  honest  faither's 
siller  ere  he's  weel  cauld  in  his  grave,  puir  man?" 

Mr.  Douglas  explained  that  it  was  upon  account  of 
his  niece's  health. 

"Health!"  repeated  she,  with  a  sardonic  smile; 
"  it  wad  mak'  an  ool  laugh  to  hear  the  wark  that's 
made  aboot  young  fowk's  health  noo-a-days.  I  wonder 
what  ye're  aw  made  o' " — grasping  Mary's  arm  in  her 
great  bony  hand — "  a  wheen  puir  feckless  ^dndlestraes ; 
ye  maun  awa'  to  Ingland  for  ye're  healths.  Set  ye  up  ! 
I  wonder  what  cam'  o'  the  lasses  i'  my  time,  that  bute 
to  bide  at  hamel  And  whilk  o'  ye,  I  sude  like  to 
ken,  '11  ere  leive  to  see  ninety-sax,  like  me  1  Health  ! 
—he,  he!" 

Mar}^  glad  of  a  pretence  to  indulge  the  mirth  the 
old  lady's  manner  and  appearance  had  excited,  joined 
most  heartily  in  the  laugh. 

"  Tak  aff  ye're  bannet,  bairn,  an'  let  me  see  ye're 


MARRIAGE.  335 

face.  Wha  can  tell  what  like  ye  are  wi'  that  snule  o' 
a  thing  on  ye 're  headf  Then  after  taking  an  accurate 
survey  of  her  face,  she  pushed  aside  her  pelisse. 
"  Weel,  it's  ae  mercy,  I  see  ye  hae  neither  the  red 
heed  nor  the  muckle  cuits  o'  the  Douglases.  I  ken 
nae  whuther  ye're  faither  had  them  or  no.  I  ne'er  set 
een  on  him ;  neither  him  nor  his  braw  leddie  thought 
it  worth  their  while  to  speer  after  me  ;  but  I  was  at 
nae  loss,  by  aw  accounts." 

"  You  have  not  asked  after  any  of  your  Glenfern 
friends,"  said  Mr.  Douglas,  hoping  to  touch  a  more 
sympathetic  chord. 

"Time  eneugh.  Wull  ye  let  me  draw  my  breath, 
man?  Fowk  canna  say  awthing  at  ance.  An'  ye 
bute  to  hae  an  Inglish  wife  tu ;  a  Scotch  lass  wad  nae 
serr  ye.  An'  ye're  wean,  I'se  warran',  it's  ane  o'  the 
warld's  wonders ;  it's  been  unco  lang  o'  cummin — he, 
he!" 

- "  He  has  l^egun  life  under  very  melancholy  auspices, 
poor  fellow!"  said  Mr.  Douglas,  in  allusion  to  his 
father's  death. 

"An'  wha's  faut  was  thati  I  ne'er  heard  tell  the 
like  o't;  to  hae  the  bairn  kirsened  an'  its  grandfather 
deein !  But  fowk  are  naither  born,  nor  kirsened,  r.or 
do  they  wad  or  dee  as  they  used  to  du — awthings 
changed." 

"  You  must,  indeed,  have  witnessed  many  changes," 
observed  Mr.  Douglas,  rather  at  a  loss  how  to  utter 
anything  of  a  conciliatory  nature. 

"Changes! — weel  a  wat,  I  sometimes  wonder  if 


336  MAERIAGE. 

it's  the  same  warld,  an'  if  it's  my  ain  heed  that's 
upon  my  shoothers." 

"But  with  these  changes  you  must  also  have 
seen  many  improvements'?"  said  Mary,  in  a  tone  of 
diffidence. 

" Impruvements  !"  turning  sharply  round  upon  her; 
"  what  ken  ye  about  impruvements,  bairn  ?  A  bony 
impruvement  or  ens  no,  to  see  tyleyors  and  sclaters 
leavin  whar  I  mind  jewks  an  yerls.  An'  that  great 
glowrin'  new  toon  there  " — pointing  out  of  her  windows 
— "whar  1  used  to  sit  an'  luck  oot  at  bonny  green  parks, 
and  see  the  coos  milket,  and  the  bits  o'  bairnies  row- 
in'  an'  tummlin,'  an'  the  lasses  trampin  i'  their  tubs — • 
what  see  I  noo,  but  stane  an'  lime,  an'  stoor  an'  dirt, 
an'  idle  cheels,  an'  dinket-oot  madams  prancin'.  Im- 
pruvements, indeed ! " 

Mary  found  she  was  not  likely  to  advance  her 
imcle's  fortune  by  the  judiciousness  of  her  remarks, 
therefore  prudently  resolved  to  hazard  no  more.  Mr. 
Douglas,  who  was  more  an  fait  to  the  prejudices  of 
old  age,  and  who  was  always  amused  with  her  bitter 
remarks  when  they  did  not  touch  himself,  encouraged 
her  to  continue  the  conversation  by  some  observation 
on  the  prevailing  manners. 

"Mainers!"  repeated  she,  with  a  contemptuous 
laugh,  "  what  caw  ye  mainers  noo,  for  I  dinna  ken  ? 
Ilk  ane  gangs  bang  in  till  their  neebor's  hoose,  and 
bang  oot  o't  as  it  war  a  chynge-hoose ;  an'  as  for  the 
maister  o't,  he's  no  o'  sae  muckle  vaalu  as  the  flunky 
ahynt  his  chyre.     I'  my  grandfather's  time,  as  I  hae 


MARRIAGE.  337 

heard  liim  tell,  ilka  maister  o'  a  faamily  had  his  ain 
sate  in  his  ain  hoose  aye,  an'  sat  wi'  his  hat  on  his 
heed  afore  the  best  o'  the  land,  an'  had  his  ain  dish, 
an'  was  aye  helpit  first,  an'  keepit  up  his  owthority  as 
a  man  sude  du.  Paurents  war  paurents  then ;  bairnes 
dardna  set  up  their  gabs  afore  them  than  as  they  du 
noo.  They  ne'er  presumed  to  say  their  heeds  war 
their  ain  i'  thae  days — wife  an'  servants,  reteeners  an' 
childer,  aw  trummelt  i'  the  presence  o'  their  heed." 

Here  a  long  pinch  of  snuff  caused  a  pause  in  the 
old  lady's  harangue  ;  but  after  having  duly  wiped  her 
nose  with  her  coloured  handkerchief,  and  shook  off 
all  the  particles  that  might  be  presumed  to  have 
lodged  upon  her  cardinal,  she  resumed — • 

"An'  nae  word  o'  ony  o'  your  sisters  gaun  to  get 
husbands  yet  1  They  tell  me  they're  but  coorse  lasses : 
an'  wha'll  tak  ill-farred  tocherless  queans  AA^han  there's 
walth  o'  bonny  faces  an'  lang  purses  i'  the  market — 
he,  he!"  Then  resuming  her  scrutiny  of  Mary — 
"  An'  I'se  warran'  ye'll  be  lucken  for  an  Inglish  sweet- 
heart tu ;  that'll  be  what's  takin'  ye  awa'  to  Ingland." 

"  On  the  contrary,"  said  Mr.  Douglas,  seeing  jNIary 
was  too  much  frightened  to  answer  for  herself — "  on 
the  contrary,  INIary  declares  she  will  never  marry  any 
but  a  true  Highlander — one  who  wears  the  dirk  and 
plaid,  and  has  the  second -sight.  And  the  nuptials 
are  to  be  celebrated  with  all  the  pomji  of  feudal 
times ;  with  bagpipes,  and  bonfires,  and  gatherings 
of  clans,  and  roasted  sheep,  and  barrels  of  whisky, 
and " 

VOL.  I.  Z  u. 


338  MAr.PJAGE. 

"  Weel  a  wat,  an'  she's  i'  the  right  there,"  inter- 
rupted Mrs.  Macshake,  with  more  complacency  than 
she  had  yet  shown.  "  They  may  caw  them  what  they 
like,  but  there's  nae  Avaddins  noo.  Wha's  the  better  o' 
them  but  innkeepers  and  chise-driversi  I  wud  nae 
count  mysel'  married  i'  the  hiddlins  way  they  gang 
aboot  it  noo." 

"  I  daresay  you  remember  these  things  done  in  a 
very  different  style  V  said  Mr.  Douglas. 

"I  dinna  mind  them  whan  they  war  at  the  best; 
but  I  hae  heard  my  mither  tell  what  a  bonny  ploy 
was  at  her  Avaddin.  I  canna  tell  ye  hoo  mony  was  at 
it ;  mair  nor  the  room  wad  baud,  ye  may  be  sure,  for 
every  relation  an'  freend  o'  baith  sides  Avar  there,  as 
well  they  sude ;  an'  aAv  in  full  dress :  the  leddies  in 
their  hoops  round  them,  an'  some  o'  them  had  sutten 
up  aAV  night  till  hae  their  heeds  drest;  for  they  hadnae 
thae  pooket-like  taps  ye  hae  noo,"  looking  with  con- 
tempt at  Mary's  Grecian  contour.  "An'  the  bride's 
goon  Avas  aAv  sheAved  OAv'r  Avi'  favours,  frae  the  tap  doon 
to  the  tail,  an'  aAv  roond  the  neck,  an'  aboot  the  sleeves; 
and,  as  soon  as  the  ceremony  Avas  ow'r,  ilk  ane  ran  till 
her,  an'  rugget  an'  rave  at  her  for  the  favours,  till  they 
hardly  left  the  claise  upon  her  back.  Than  they  did 
nae  run  aAva  as  they  du  noo,  but  sax  an'  thrctty  o' 
them  sat  doon  till  a  graund  denner,  and  there  was  a 
ball  at  night,  an'  ilka  night  till  Sabbath  cam'  roond  ; 
an'  than  the  bride  an'  the  bridegroom,  drest  in  their 
waddiu  suits,  an'  aw  their  freends  in  theirs,  Avi'  their 
favours  on  their  breests,  Avalkit  in  procession  till  the 


MARKIAGE.  339 

kirk.  An'  was  nae  that  something  like  a  waddin  ?  It 
was  worth  while  to  be  married  i'  thae  days — he,  he!" 

"  The  wedding  seems  to  have  been  admirably  con- 
ducted," said  Mr.  Douglas,  Avith  much  solemnity. 
"The  christening,  I  presume,  would  be  the  next  dis- 
tinguished event  in  the  family  1 " 

"Troth,  Archie — an'  ye  sude  keep  your  thoomb 
upon  kirsnins  as  lang's  ye  leeve ;  yours  was  a  bonnie 
kirsnin  or  ens  no  !  I  hae  heard  o'  mony  things,  but 
a  bairn  kirsened  whan  its  grandfaither  was  i'  the 
deed-thraw,  I  ne'er  heard  tell  o'  before."  Then 
observing  the  indignation  that  spread  over  Mr. 
Douglas's  face,  she  quickly  resumed,  "  An'  so  ye  think 
the  kirsnin  was  the  neist  ploy  1 — He,  he  !  Na  ;  the 
cryin  was  a  ploy,  for  the  leddies  did  nae  keep  them- 
sels  up  than  as  they  do  noo ;  but  the  day  after  the 
bairn  was  born,  the  leddy  sat  up  i'  her  bed,  wi'  her 
fan  intill  her  hand ;  an'  aw  her  freends  cam'  an'  stud 
roond  her,  an'  drank  her  health  an'  the  bairn's. 
Than  at  the  leddy's  recovery  there  Avas  a  graund 
supper  gien  that  they  caw'd  the  aimmerfeaUs,  an' 
there  was  a  great  p}Tamid  o'  hens  at  the  tap  o'  the 
table,  an'  anither  pyramid  o'  ducks  at  the  fit,  an'  a 
rnuckle  stoup  fu'  o'  posset  i'  the  middle,  an'  aw  kinds 
o'  sweeties  doon  the  sides ;  an'  as  sune  as  ilk  ane  had 
eatin  their  fill  they  aw  flew  till  the  sweeties,  an'  fought, 
an'  strave,  an'  wrastled  for  them,  leddies  an'  gentle- 
men an'  aw ;  for  the  brag  Avas  wha  could  pocket  maist ; 
an'  whiles  they  wad  hae  the  claith  afF  the  table,  an'  aw 
thing  i'  the  middle  i'  the  floor,  an'  the  chyres  upside 


340  MAKKIAGE. 

doon.  Oo  !  muckle  gude  diversion,  I'se  warran,'  was 
at  the  cummerfealls.  Than  whan  they  had  drank  the 
stoup  dry,  that  ended  the  ploy.  As  for  the  kirsnin, 
that  was  aye  whar  it  sude  be — i'  the  hoose  o'  God, 
an'  aw  the  kith  an'  kin  bye  in  full  dress,  an'  a  band  o' 
maiden  cimmers  aw  in  white  ;  an'  a  bonny  sight  it  was, 
as  I've  heard  my  mither  tell." 

Mr.  Douglas,  who  Avas  now  rather  tired  of  the  old 
lady's  reminiscences,  availed  himself  of  the  opportunity 
of  a  fresh  pinch  to  rise  and  take  leave. 

"  Oo,  what's  takin'  ye  awa,  Archie,  in  sic  a  hurry  1 
Sit  doon  there,"  laying  her  hand  upon  his  arm,  "  an* 
rest  ye,  an'  tak  a  glass  o'  wine,  an'  a  bit  breed ;  or 
may  be,"  turning  to  Mary,  "ye  wad  rather  hae  a  drap 
broth  to  warm  ye.  What  gars  ye  luck  sae  blae,  bairn  1 
I'm  sure  it's  no  cauld  ;  but  ye're  juste  like  the  lave  ;  ye 
gang  aw  skiltin  aboot  the  streets  half  naked,  an'  than  ye 
maun  sit  an'  birsle  yoursels  afore  the  fire  at  hame." 

She  had  now  shuffled  along  to  the  farther  end  of 
the  room,  and  opening  a  press,  took  out  wine,  and  a 
plateful  of  various-shaped  articles  of  bread,  which  she 
handed  to  Mary. 

"  Hae,  bairn — tak  a  cookie ;  tak  it  up — what  are 
you  fear'd  for  ?  It'll  no  bite  ye.  Here's  t'ye,  Glen- 
fern,  an'  your  wife,  an'  your  wean,  puir  tead ;  it's  no 
had  a  very  chancy  ootset,  weel  a  wat." 

The  wine  being  drunk,  and  the  cookies  discussed, 
Mr.  Douglas  made  another  attempt  to  withdraw,  but 
in  vain. 

"  Canna  ye  sit  still  a  wee,  man,  an'  let  me  spear 


MARRIAGE.  341 

after  my  auld  freens  at  Glenfern  ?  Hoo's  Grizzy,  an' 
Jacky,  and  Nicky  1  Aye  workin  awa  at  the  pills  an' 
the  drogs  1 — he,  he  !  I  ne'er  swallowed  a  pill,  nor  gied 
a  doit  for  drogs  aw  my  days,  an'  see  an  ony  of  them'll 
rin  a  race  wi'  me  whan  they're  naur  five  score." 

Mr.  Douglas  here  paid  her  some  compliments  upon 
her  appearance,  which  were  pretty  graciously  received ; 
and  added  that  he  was  the  bearer  of  a  letter  from  his 
Aunt  Grizzy,  which  he  would  send  along  with  a  roe- 
buck and  brace  of  moor-game. 

"Gin  your  roebuck's  nae  better  than  your  last, 
atweel  it's  no  worth  the  sendin' — poor  dry  fisinless 
dirt,  no  worth  the  chowing ;  weel  a  wat  I  begrudged 
my  teeth  on't.  Your  muirfowl  was  na  that  ill,  but 
they're  no  worth  the  carryin ;  they're  dong  cheap  i' 
the  market  enoo,  so  it's  nae  great  compliment.  Gin 
ye  had  brought  me  a  leg  o'  gude  mutton,  or  a  cauler 
sawmont,  there  would  hae  been  some  sense  in't ;  but 
ye're  ane  o'  the  fowk  that'll  ne'er  harry  yoursel'  wi' 
your  presents ;  it's  but  the  pickle  poother  they  cost 
you,  an'  I'se  warran'  ye're  thinkin  mair  o'  jour  ain 
diversion  than  o'  my  stamick,  when  ye're  at  the 
shootin'  o'  them,  puir  beasts." 

Mr.  Douglas  had  borne  the  various  indignities 
levelled  against  himself  and  his  family  with  a  philo- 
sophy that  had  no  parallel  in  his  life  before ;  but  to 
this  attack  upon  his  game  he  was  not  proof.  His 
colour  rose,  his  eyes  flashed  fire,  and  something  re- 
sembling an  oath  burst  from  his  lips  as  he  strode 
indignantly  towards  the  door. 


342  MAIirJAGE. 

His  friend,  however,  was  too  nimble  for  him.  She 
stepped  before  him,  and,  breaking  into  a  discordant 
laugh,  as  she  patted  him  on  the  back,  "  So  I  see  ye're 
just  the  auld  man,  Archie, — aye  ready  to  tak  the 
strums,  an'  ye  dinna  get  a'  thing  yer  ain  wye.  Mony 
a  time  I  had  to  fleech  ye  oot  o'  the  dorts  whan  ye  was 
a  callant.  Div  ye  mind  hoo  ye  was  affronted  because 
I  set  ye  doon  to  a  cauld  pigeon-pie,  an'  a  tanker  o' 
tippenny,.  ae  night  to  ye're  fowerhoors,  afore  some 
leddies — he,  he,  he  !  Weel  a  wat,  yer  wife  maun  hae 
her  ain  adoos  to  manage  ye,  for  ye're  a  cumstairy 
chield,  Archie." 

Mr.  Douglas  still  looked  as  if  he  was  irresolute 
whether  to  laugh  or  be  angry. 

"  Come,  come,  sit  ye  doon  there  till  I  speak  to  this 
bairn,"  said  she,  as  she  pulled  Mary  into  an  adjoining 
bedchamber,  which  wore  the  same  aspect  of  chilly 
neatness  as  the  one  they  had  quitted.  Then  pulling 
a  huge  bunch  of  keys  from  her  pocket,  she  opened  a 
drawer,  out  of  which  she  took  a  pair  of  diamond  ear- 
rings. "Hae,  bairn,"  said  she  as  she  stuffed  them 
into  Mary's  hand;  "they  belanged  to  your  faither's 
grandmother.  She  was  a  gude  woman,  an'  had  four- 
an'-twenty  sons  an'  dochters,  an'  I  wiss  ye  nae  war 
fortin  than  just  to  hae  as  mony.  But  mind  ye,"  with 
a  shake  of  her  bony  finger,  "  they  maun  a'  be  Scots, 
Gin  I  thought  ye  wad  mairry  ony  pock-puddin',  fient 
haed  wad  ye  hae  gotten  frae  me.  "Noo,  had  ye're 
tongue,  and  dinna  deive  me  wi'  thanks,"  almost  push- 
ing her  into  the  parlour  again;  "and  sin  ye're  gaun 


MARRIAGE.  343 

awa  the  morn,  I'll  see  nae  mair  o'  ye  enoo — so  fare  ye 
weel.  But,  Archie,  ye  mann  come  an'  tak  your  break- 
fast wi'  me.  I  hae  muckle  to  say  to  you ;  but  ye 
manna  be  sae  hard  upon  my  baps  as  ye  used  to  be," 
with  a  facetious  grin  to  her  mollified  favourite,  as  they 
shook  hands  and  parted. 

"Well,  how  do  you  like  IMrs.  Macshake,  Maryf 
asked  her  uncle  as  they  walked  home. 

"That  is  a  cruel  question,  uncle,"  answered  she, 
■with  a  smile.  "  My  gratitude  and  my  taste  are  at 
such  variance,"  displaying  her  splendid  gift,  "  that  ] 
know  not  how  to  reconcile  them." 

"  That  is  always  the  case  "with  those  whom  Mrs. 
Macshake  has  obliged,"  returned  Mr.  Douglas.  "  She 
does  many  hberal  things,  but  in  so  ungracious  a 
manner  that  people  are  never  sure  whether  they  are 
obliged  or  insulted  by  her.  But  the  way  in  Avhich 
she  receives  kindness  is  still  worse.  Could  anything 
equal  her  impertinence  about  my  roebuck?  Faith, 
I've  a  good  mind  never  to  enter  her  door  again  !" 

Mary  could  scarcely  i^reserve  her  gravity  at  her 
uncle's  indignation,  which  seemed  so  disproportioned 
to  the  cause.  But,  to  turn  the  current  of  his  ideas, 
she  remarked  that  he  had  certainly  been  at  pains  to 
select  two  admirable  specimens  of  her  countrywomen 
for  her. 

"I  don't  think  I  shall  soon  forget  cither  Mrs. 
Gawffaw  or  Mrs  Macshake,"  said  she,  laughing. 

"I  hope  you  won't  carry  away  the  impression  that 
these  two  liisus  natune  are  specimens  of  Scotchwomen, " 


344  MARKIAGE. 

said  her  uncle.  "  The  former,  indeed,  is  rather  a  sort 
of  weed  that  infests  every  soil ;  the  latter,  to  be  sure, 
is  an  indigenous  plant.  I  question  if  she  would  have 
arrived  at  such  perfection  in  a  more  cultivated  field 
or  genial  clime.  She  was  born  at  a  time  when 
Scotland  was  very  different  from  what  it  is  now. 
Female  education  was  little  attended  to,  even  in 
families  of  the  highest  rank ;  consequently,  the  ladies 
of  those  days  possess  a  raciness  in  their  manners  and 
ideas  that  we  should  vainly  seek  for  in  this  age  of 
cultivation  and  refinement.  Had  your  time  permitted, 
you  could  have  seen  much  good  society  here ;  superior, 
perhaps,  to  what  is  to  be  found  anywhere  else,  as  far 
as  mental  cultivation  is  concerned.  But  j'ou  will 
have  leisure  for  that  when  you  return." 

Mary  acquiesced  with  a  sigh.  Return  was  to  her 
still  a  melancholy -sounding  word.  It  reminded  her 
of  all  she  had  left — of  the  anguish  of  separation — the 
dreariness  of  absence ;  and  all  these  painful  feelings 
were  renewed  in  their  utmost  bitterness  when  the 
time  approached  for  her  to  bid  adieu  to  her  uncle. 
Lord  Courtland's  carriage  and  two  respectable-looking 
servants  awaited  her ;  and  the  following  morning  she 
commenced  her  journey  in  all  the  agony  of  a  heart 
that  fondly  clings  to  its  native  homo. 


END  OF  VOL.  I. 


Messrs.  Roberts  Brothers'  Publications. 


Jane  Austen's  Novels. 

Printed  from  new  type,  on  superfine  paper,  with  fron- 
tispiece-design by  Garrett.  1  2  volumes,  1  6mo,  half 
ruby  morocco,  gilt  top.     Price   $1.25   per  volume. 

SENSE    AND    SENSIBILITY      2  vols. 

PRIDE    AND    PREJUDICE ......  2  vols. 

MANSFIELD    PARK 2  vols. 

EMMA 2  vols. 

NORTHANGER    ABBEY 1    vol. 

PERSUASION 1   vol. 

LADY    SUSAN  -THE    WATSONS. 

With  a  Memoir 1   vol. 

LETTERS    OF    JANE    AUSTEN 1   vol. 

Her  novels  are  more  true  to  nature,  and  have,  for  my  sympa- 
thies, passages  of  finer  feeling  than  any  others  of  this  age.  — Robert 
Southey- 

Shakespeare  has  had  neither  equal  nor  second.  But  among  the 
writers  who  have  approached  nearest  to  the  manner  of  the  great 
master,  we  have  no  hesitation  in  placing  Jane  Austen,  a  woman  of 
whom  England  is  justly  proud.  ...  I  have  now  read,  once  again, 
all  Miss  Austen's  novels ;  charming  they  are.  There  are  in  the 
world  .no  compositions  which  approach  nearer  to  perfection.  — 
Lord  Macaulay. 

There  can  be  only  words  of  welcome  for  the  new  edition 
of  Jane  Austen's  novels  which  Roberts  Brothers,  Boston,  have 
begun  to  issue,  in  a  size  convenient  for  the  hand  and  in  a  style 
most  agreeable  to  the  eye.  The  series  opens  with  "  Sense  and 
Sensibility  "  in  two  volumes,  each  provided  with  a  delicately  de- 
:jigned  .and  etched  frontispiece  ;  and  this  has  been  followed  by 
"  I'ride  and  Prejudice,"  likewise  in  two  volumes  and  illustrated. 
The  type  is  clear,  the  binding  wholly  commendable  for  its  tasie. 
It  is  safe  to  augur  a  revival  of  popularity  for  these  classics  from 
their  taking  garb  —  The  A'ation. 


Sold  by    all  Booksellers.      ^fa^h•d,    posi-pahU    t>v    the 
Publishers, 

ROBERTS   BROTHERS,  Boston. 


THE  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

Santa  Barbara 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAs7daTE 
STAMPED  BELOW.  ^^^^ 


"W*" 


